Correlation
by Limited Heart
Summary: Correlation; the relationship between two variables. The course of true love never did run smooth.
1. One

Stifling a yawn, Yumi Ishiyama grabbed her bag and closed the wooden door of her apartment with a slam. She tossed her keys into her pocket, gathered up her uncooperative hair into some semblance of order, and blearily marched forward. Footprints dotted the pavement in an assortment of sizes and directions, but Yumi couldn't bring himself to care much less appreciate the artistry that was New York City at five thirty nine in the morning in December.

Her routine stop before class, a small, warm bakery in the corner of an intersection was bright with premature Christmas lights. There was a stereotypical bell hanging from the doorway which made an annoyingly high pitched sound whenever someone came in. This was only a minor annoyance and nothing compared to the momentary high Yumi got when she sipped the recently brewed coffee -- two sugars, milk, and a spoonful of cream -- as she unwound the scarf from her neck. Here her attire seemed ridiculous; a heavy coat, jeans, an old pair of sneakers, a long sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a colorful scarf that contrasted with her pale skin and colorless eyes.

If Yumi was feeling particularly gluttonous, she would order a bagel -- toasted, cream cheese and a bit of strawberry jelly, please --, but today she had a pharmacology exam and she didn't have time to eat, especially since she failed her driving test at seventeen and been on foot ever since. The trains were full of people and Yumi was only sociable after ten in the morning, and the buses full of the kind of strangers your parents warn you about. Besides, there was something peaceful in walking down the street, watching people that she'd never meet, imagining stories about their lives and where they were headed. Or, if she was feeling particularly sleepy or pessimistic, Yumi would plug herself into her ipod and forget the world.

Her parents who were strictly old fashioned, were very much against her being a university student in New York City, but since she was thirteen, Yumi's biggest dream was to be as far away as humanly possible from her parents. She loved them a great deal and would be eternally grateful for putting up with her for eighteen years, but enough was enough. Yumi wanted a complete change of pace so she'd risked herself and moved from Paris where she'd grown up to the Bronx, New York. It was oddity for a Japanese girl to grow up in France, and Yumi always stuck out like a sore thumb. In New York she was the same as everyone as it was a rarity that two people were similar, much less the same.

Yumi spoke Japaneses, French, and English fluently and with a 4.0 grade point average, acceptance into NYU had been a breeze. Apparently, the application process and the placement test were an incorrect representation of what life as a student in NYU would be like. It was like hell, with a very expensive price tag. Still, Yumi couldn't help but love it if just for the sheer challenge of it.

Yumi ignored the tinkling of the stationary bell as the door swung open, she shivered a bit as the wind from the outside spilled into the bakery. The door closed soon enough and Yumi resumed the blissful experience that was coffee.

"Je suis desole," he spoke French and sounded oddly shy. A heavy accent dangled from his words, but it was neither French nor American. "Je suis --"

"I'm sorry honey," the owner of the store, a tall, shrewd woman with a high voice interjected. "We only speak English here." To her credit, she sounded sincerely sorry. Yumi wasn't particularly interested in being a good samaritan but she could identify with not knowing the native language and being new and disoriented. Standing up, lamenting leaving her coffee behind, Yumi reached the counter. She pulled out a couple of bills, intending to pay.

"Thank you," she said, her Japanese accent unmistakable. Turning to the stranger, she smiled at sincerely as possible. "Can you speak English," she asked in french. The boy who appeared her age, a year or two younger perhaps, smiled.

"I'm sorry," his English was better than hers. "I just got off a flight from France and I'm a bit lost. I hadn't realized that a different country meant a different language."

Yumi quirked an eyebrow, he scratched his head self consciously. "I'm just having a blond moment, that's all."

Yumi wanted to point out that he was brunette but bit back her commentary.

"Mind if I sit with you," he elaborated. "I don't know anyone else ..."

"Um," Yumi hedged. "Sure, but I only have ten minutes until I have to go."

"Not a problem," he grinned. "Oh, and by the way, my name is Ulrich, Ulrich Stern."


	2. Two

Conversation started in French. Yumi decided she liked the soft, lilting sound of Ulrich's voice in contrast to her own hurried, mutiliation of the language. He coaxed a smile here and there, and Yumi credited it to the lax enviorment of the bakery. It was one of those conversations you could fall right into without fear of reprisal. Ulrich was easy to talk to.

"It's been fifteen minutes," Ulrich pointed out with a smile.

"Shit," Yumi swore. Slipping into her coat, wrapping her scarf around her neck gracelessly, she half stumbled out of her seat. "I'm sorry," she babbled without looking at Ulrich. "I'm so sorry but I really have to, really have to --," she threw the empty styrofoam cup and missed. "Fuck," Yumi swore again.

"You really have to ... fuck?"

"Don't be cute," Yumi grimaced. At this rate, her proffessor wouldn't admit her into the classroom.

"So you _do_ think I'm cute," Ulrich was smiling again.

"I don't have time for this," Yumi spat out a hair that had gotten caught in her mouth via her scarf. "I have to catch the bus and I can't --"

"Hey," he was speaking in English now, more pratical and less soothing. "I'll give you a ride, okay?"

"You don't understand, I have a -- did you say a ride?"

Ulrich nodded.

"Oh," Yumi threw her arms around him. "I love you, you are my hero."

"I'll pick up your tab," Ulrich offered. This made Yumi shirk back a little. Guys were not this nice unless they wanted something in return.

"That's alright," she fumbled with her wallet but Ulrich stopped her, easing her wallet away from her fingers and back into her bag. He had very nice hands.

"You can make it up to me," Ulrich replied in French.

Yumi's hands fisted at her hips, a very unimpressive gesture considering Ulrich towered her by a good three inches. "Listen here, if you think I'm one of those easy --"

"-- by having coffee with me tomorrow morning," Ulrich interrupted. "Sounds fair?"

Free coffee?

"Wow," Yumi said and Ulrich swore he saw sparkles in her eyes. "A free ride and free coffee? I worship the ground you walk on."

Ulrich raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

Yumi smirked, "No."

Ulrich zipped down his jacket with one arm, held the door open with another. The snow was falling placidly, almost an afterthought to the storm that had gone on during the night. As soon as the door grinded to a halt, Ulrich pushed Yumi into his chest, covering her with the right side of his jacket. The movement seem so natural Yumi could only guess he'd held many girls this way before. For some reason the thought annoyed her. Yumi reasoned it was because she hated boys who treated girls like toys and girls who let themselves be treated as such.

The car beeped in distinct correlation to the approaching owner, and Ulrich opened the passenger door with a smile.

"Sorry about the mess in the back," he said. "I haven't gotten settled in quite yet."

There were boxes and crates dotting the backseat, as well as some random items here and there. Yumi shrugged it off, she wasn't exactly a neat freak. In a moment, Ulrich was sliding into his respective seat, turning the car on, the radio lighting up on automatic.

"You listen to Placebo," Yumi asked, as a familiar song blared through the speakers.

"I was passing through France and I heard a song of theirs," he handled the wheel with expertise. "It's catchy."

"It's depressing," Yumi replied. "I was into them when I was going through my teenage years."

"Hmm," Ulrich replied idly. "You're going to university, right?"

The car sped up so quickly that Yumi nearly crashed into the windshield.

"You don't even know which one I go to," she gasped. "And you're a horrible driver."

"Sorry," Ulrich apologized. "I haven't gotten used to it yet. Back home traffic is a little lighter and much faster."

"I'm going to New York University, by the way," Yumi commented. "It's a few --"

"I know where it is," Ulrich drawled. Yumi looked at him a bit strangely and he corrected himself, "You can't miss it."

They arrived promptly enough. Yumi opened the door systematically and gathered up her belongings.

"Thanks again for everything," she said as she tightened her scarf. "Maybe we'll meet again."

"Sure we will," Ulrich said with his winning smile. "I'll pick you up?"

"Sorry," and to her credit, Yumi did indeed look sorry. "Thanks for the offer but my boyfriend is picking me up."

"Boyfriend?"

Yumi barely caught the disappointed word as she slammed the door shut. The snow crunched beneath her shoes, and her smile sweetened as she caught the eye of security at the door.

"Hello sir," she started. "You wouldn't let a girl like me out in the cold like this, would you?"

"Uh," the guard hedged.

Yumi's smile widened, "Because that would be awful and I would miss class. You see, my biggest dream has been to attend here and you wouldn't crush my dreams would you?"

"I'm sorry miss, but when you are late you --"

Yumi's eyes miraculous teared up.

"--ah, just don't let it happen again," the guard stepped aside with the uncomfortable smile of someone who had been manipulated but had yet to realize it.

Yumi's expression sobered up, "Certainly not."

* * *

As it turned out, Yumi had to retake her exam on some other day because her proffessor was slightly singed at the merry way she'd approached him after being fifteen minutes late. Not even his threats of expulsion could damper Yumi's mood. Something about coffee and a warm car made her giddy. Or maybe it was Ulrich with his easy smile and easier attitude. It was a shame she probably couldn't take him up on his offer of free coffee considering the only reason she'd been alone today at the bakery was because her boyfriend had an errand to run. She usually met her boyfriend during the mornings, had coffee with him, and went her way.

Her boyfriend was just another thing her parents disaproved her, and it was just another disaproval Yumi couldn't care less about it. She remembered her first day in New York, walking around aimlessly, basking in the sheer pleasure of doing whatever she pleased. It'd begun snowing and Yumi had waltzed into a music store to pass the time. It was called Nautica, and it had an assortment of instruments, classical and electric alike. Feeling a bit reckless, Yumi had followed the noise of a guitar into the back and had come face to face with her soon to be boyfriend, William Dunbar. It took a minute for him to let go of the instrument, open the door, and ask her out.

Why not, Yumi had reasoned. They'd been frequently dating for five months now, and although William prioritized his career before her, Yumi didn't mind. It wasn't anything serious and it wasn't like he was her number one priority either.

William was the lead singer and guitarist of a band called Poseidon, which had achieved relative fame. They were on their way to signing with a major label, and like a true rockstar, William had an ego that Yumi sometimes found tiresome. Whenever he suspected they were going to argue about something, he always promised she'd star in his first music video and he'd make her famous.

Whatever. Yumi didn't believe in men, much less their promises.

Which is why Yumi found herself surprised at how frequently her mind kept drifting back to Ulrich during the day. He was interesting, that's all. And if he traveled as much as Yumi thought he did, she'd probably never see him again.

Her last class for the day done, Yumi ruminated on the strange boy with the warm eyes until she was promptly knocked out of her thoughts by reality.

"Hey babe," William swung his arm around her shoulders. "How was class?"

"Hmm," Yumi answered.

"Anything interesting happen today," William went on.

Yumi heaved a sigh as William guided her to his car. An odd sense of dissapointment at not seeing stacks of boxes in the back surprised her.

"Nothing," Yumi sighed, because that's exactly what it was; nothing.

Now, if only she could convince herself everything would be perfect.

* * *

Placebo is a British band, whom I adore. They also sing in French, however.

Reviews are love :) What do you guys think of the stage I've set?


	3. Three

The sharp wind tickled Yumi's nose as she made her way up the steps leading to the door of her apartment. She had said goodbye to William only moments before, but it was empty, like the way she kissed him as she slid out of the car. He hadn't said anything about it, so Yumi preferred not to mention it and it wasn't like those things mattered. It was a bit sad that she saw the end of the relationship even before it had begun; right after he closed the door behind him, took her hand in his, and smiled she knew that it was a fleeting relationship. The kind you talk about ten years later, and laugh because you can't even remember his name, just the way things ended. The sadness in the back of her head felt a lot like disappointment. Not about the relationship itself, never that. In a cruel moment Yumi could admit that she could care less about their relationship. It was like a nice, familiar thing in her life. When she was younger it was her parents, then it was her struggle to get away from them, and now it was him. It scared her to think that all the constant things in her life had been bad and William was just another addition to the list.

It was still early, one in the afternoon, and with a heavy sigh Yumi mentally calculated all the things she needed to do. Her laundry was building up into a mountain in her bedroom and the dishes were in the sink since the day before. Instead of being practical, Yumi flopped on her bed like a rag doll and started to think. Which was always a bad thing. When she was thirteen, Yumi started to think about college. Five years later her parents refused to speak to her. When she was fourteen, Yumi started to think about boys. Three weeks later she'd gotten her heart effectively and completely torn into shreds. The only thing that had been bruised there was her ego. But the guy didn't need to know that; she made him buy her lunch for twelve days straight after that. He felt so guilty he went along with it. At the end of those twelve days, Yumi started to think about how easy it was to manipulate people. Four years later, in her senior year of high school, almost every girl in her class hated her. Their boyfriends had turned on them in favor of her and even if Yumi rejected them, she was still the whore who stole my boyfriend in the eyes of the female population. Yumi couldn't care less about that either. She learned that people were easily misguided and not to be trusted.

Which is why she liked William, naturally. William didn't care about her and Yumi didn't care about him. It was a win/win situation and one hundred percent safe. William would never hurt her and that was the important part.

It was raining outside. Yumi stood, turned out all the lights, and threw herself back into bed. It was nice and peaceful in the dark, the coolness of the rain in the air. Occasional streaks of lightening flashed into the room, illuminating her and pulling her away from sleep. It was all very nice until the phone, which rested on a table beside the bed, rang. It was a very annoying ring; shrill, loud, and unrelenting. Yumi unhooked the receiver ungracefully.

"Hello," she mumbled tiredly.

"Hello dear," Yumi jerked awake. All notions of peace and sleep left her. "I know I haven't called you in a very long time, but convincing your father to allow me to speak to you has been rather hard."

Her mother sounded like a diplomat on the phone. Her voice was neutral, concise, and highly logical. Every time she spoke it sounded as if she was explaining something to a very old, very senile person. Her mother made her feel like a child.

"You're my mother," Yumi protested. "You're supposed to do everything in your power to talk to me. My father should be the least of your worries."

"I don't know what went wrong," her mother sounded tired but Yumi knew it was just a strategy to make her feel guilty. "I didn't raise you like this. Hiroki turned out right, he respects me. He listens to what I have to say."

"Mom --," Yumi started.

"You used to be so obediently," her mother interrupted. "You never had a problem with a traditional upbringing before. You were such a nice girl..."

"Don't talk about me like I'm dead," Yumi snapped. "I didn't want to get married to some random guy because of his money or his family and suddenly I'm the bad one in the story? You should feel ashamed for trying to force me into something like that? I didn't even know him! I was sixteen years old and you wanted me to quit school and marry some guy so I could have three children by the time I was twenty. You might enjoy being subservient to dad, but I will never be like you."

Yumi hung up. She muttered a quiet curse as she tried to sink herself into the bed as much as possible. Talking to her mother always made her feel depressed. Things were going perfectly fine for her and her mother had to call her after six months to ruin it all. Not even thousands of miles had prevented her mother from making her life miserable. Still, this was much better than living with them. There she had to listen to her mother and father tell her what a disappointment she was, there she could still hear them voicing disapproval through the door. Here she could hang up or not answer. Here she was safe.

* * *

The next day was a shitty one. William called her at four in the morning to say that he had another errand to run and couldn't met her at the bakery. It was a very elaborate way of saying that he was ditching her, again. It was too early to care, and Yumi mumbled an agreement before slamming the receiver. It was still dark out and she still felt tired. After ten more minutes of fighting with herself to get out of bed, Yumi made her way into the bathroom. It was a small bathroom; a shower in the corner with a sliding glass door, a sink in the other corner with a rusted mirror, and a toilet next to the sink. There were no windows, only two fluorescent bulbs near the vanity.

Tugging off her clothes lethargically, Yumi turned the knobs and watched the water sprout out of the shower head. She felt sleepy, and some of the sadness from the day before still remained. Memories of the phone call flooded back, and underneath a torrent of scorching water, Yumi cried a little. Satisfied with her shower, Yumi dried herself off with a towel and then slipped into a bath robe. It was red, or used to be. She had, had it since she was seventeen and after a hundred washes it had faded into a nice pink color. Yumi caught sight of herself in the mirror and admitted that she looked pretty bad. There were bags under her eyes and she looked a bit dead; there was no color in her skin and her lips were chapped. Yumi fought off the urge to cry again.

It was raining/snowing by the time Yumi made her way outside. Three quaters to the bakery, the wind snapped her umbrella inside out. Yumi arrived at the bakery drenched, cold, and swearing.

Yumi swept the bakery with her eyes for William and then remembered her wasn't meeting her today. Bastard. Instead, she caught sight of a very cheerful wave and a shock of brown hair. It appeared that Ulrich was a morning person. Yumi could hate him for it.

"Hey sweetums," the owner of the bakery greeted her. She handed her a towel. "Don't look so glum, go sit over there with Mr. Handsome and I'll bring you your usual."

"Thanks," Yumi managed, draping the towel over her shoulders. Her hair was dripping water everywhere. Yumi miserably sat down opposite to Ulrich. He was entertaining his cell phone in one hand, his car keys in the other.

"Bad day?"

"Worst day," Yumi replied as she bit back a sneeze. A waitress appeared in front of them.

"Good morning," she said. "Or is it Early Morning, or Late Evening, or ..."

Ulrich cleared his throat.

"Oh, right," the waitress smiled. She had dimples. "What would you like, sir?"

Ulrich thought about it. "Coffee with milk, no sugar please. If you could bring me a packet of Splenda ... that would be nice."

Yumi actually giggled. "Don't tell me you're on a diet," she joked. Ulrich didn't return her humor. He changed the topic, instead.

"What are you studying?"

"Medicine," Yumi replied. "If you get to ask questions, so do I. What brings you here? To New York, I mean."

"Um," Ulrich hedged. "I'm a ... an aspiring songwriter."

"Hmm," Yumi was sure he was lying but he didn't have any obligation to be honest with her.

The overly cheerful waitress reappeared with two cups of coffee. "Here you go," she beamed. It had to be unnatural to be that cheerful this early. "Would you like a bagel today, Miss Yumi?"

"No thanks."

"Okay," the waitress chirped. "Call me if you need anything!"

Yumi took her respective cup and sipped. "Morning people are weird."

Ulrich laughed. "Do you want me to drive you to class today? It's pretty nasty outside."

Yumi shook her head. "No class today," she mumbled in between sips.

"It's six in the morning," Ulrich laughed again. "Are you sure you're not a morning person? Most people sleep in when they don't have to go anywhere."

Yumi shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess."

"Well," Ulrich started. "If you don't have anything to do, I have a proposal for you..."

* * *

Yumi said no.

Ulrich then proceeded to make up some sob story about how he lived inside a box and could she pleaseplease_please_ help him out? His apartment was on the ninth floor and it was a twice as big as an entire floor in her apartment building.

"Wow," Yumi said before she could stop herself. She wasn't impressed by money, but when she saw the espresso machine resting comfortably in the kitchen, Yumi fell in love. Ulrich hadn't been kidding, there were boxes upon boxes dotting the room. Yumi could only imagine how much bigger the apartment would look about everything was clean and in place. A dog slept in the corner.

"You have a dog," Yumi asked, stating the obvious.

"No," Ulrich said, hands in pockets. "It belongs to a friend who is out of the country right now."

"Oh," Yumi wanted to pet the dog but decided against it. "Does it have a name?"

"His name is Kiwi."

They left the dog to sleep and started to work as quietly as possible.

They started in the kitchen. The counters were dark wood, with a veneer on top which made them glossy. A stainless steel refrigerator loomed overwhelmingly in the corner followed by a matching dishwasher. A stack of new, unused dishes was in the sink. Matching silverware was on the counters. Yumi filled the cabinets with dishes and decorated the fridge with magnets she found in a box in the middle of the kitchen. Meanwhile, Ulrich was in the bathroom putting up the curtains and putting in the rugs. There was nothing to be done with the dinning room. The dinning table hadn't come in yet, Ulrich had informed her, so it was just a bunch of empty space. The living room was empty, too. Ulrich said he'd look into some furniture later.

His bedroom remained untouched. Ulrich didn't mention it and Yumi didn't bring it up. She wouldn't let anyone into her bedroom either. It was nearly three in the afternoon when they were done. Yumi was dirty with dust and sore.

"You are amazing," Ulrich told her as he looked around. "I love you."

Yumi ignored his commentary. She also ignored how it made her feel. Ulrich offered to give her a ride home which Yumi graciously accepted. They had a cup of coffee before they left.

"Ready?"

"Wait," Yumi bit her lip. "I'm going to use the bathroom. Can I meet you downstairs?"

"Sure," Ulrich smiled. He was so trusting, Yumi thought. He was willing to let a perfect stranger inside his obviously expensive apartment, alone. Yumi heard the door close as she slipped into the bathroom. It was painted an olive green, a matching cover on the toilet, followed by two rugs and a curtain. Yumi had to give it to him, the guy had good fashion sense. She felt a bit bad, but Yumi opened the vanity out of curiosity. Ordinary items stared at her; a razor, mouthwash, toothpaste. A small vial caught her attention. Yumi reached up for it and read the label with care. For someone who did not know medical jargon it would mean nothing to them. For Yumi, it was clear.

Insulin. Ulrich was diabetic.

Yumi smiled at Ulrich as he opened the door for her without so much as batting an eyelash. Diabetes patients did not like to talk about their condition, especially younger ones. Now the Splenda packet made sense. Ulrich drove in silence, the radio stared at Yumi mutely. Yumi didn't know what to make of Ulrich, quite honestly. She couldn't figure him out.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Yumi hadn't realized that the car had stopped. Ulrich was looking at her hopefully. For a moment, Yumi saw the bottle of insulin. So what if he had secrets? So did she. There was just something in the way he talked to her without revealing anything. The way he was obviously hiding something.

"I make no promises," Yumi answered.

"Ouch," Ulrich pretended to be hurt. Yumi waved him goodbye. Before she managed to work her key into the lock, her phone rang.

"Hey babe," it was William. "I'm so sorry about today. How about I take you to dinner tomorrow, after class?"

"Okay," Yumi had no reason to deny his request. There was silence on the line. "... Is there something else you want to tell me?"

"Yeah ... I don't think I'll be able to meet you tomorrow morning --"

Yumi hung up, and sighed.

Apparently, she wasn't as safe as she thought. No matter how far away, people could still hurt her.

* * *

Longest chapter of my life. Feedback would be lovely :)


	4. Four

Apparently William had decided that the best course of action was to show up the following morning. He sat in the routine table; it was pushed into a corner with a singular window to the left. Yumi caught sight of him before she came in, stopped, and proceeded with caution. Feigning not having seen him, she chatted up the waitress from the day before. The waitress was smiling as if nothing in the world could possibly go wrong, while humming a song underneath her breath. She poured Yumi's coffee with expertise, dropping each lump of sugar into the cup with grace. Yumi reasoned that she could very well be a dancer.

"I see Mr Grumpy is back," she giggled as she pointedly looked William's way. Yumi refused to follow along and shrugged noncommittally. "I think I like your other boyfriend better. He's nicer and he always leaves me a nice tip."

"He's not my boyfriend," Yumi clarified. The waitress shrugged before smiling again. "Does that mean he's up for grabs?"

"I guess," Yumi said slowly. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted into her nostrils and intoxicated her. "Hmm," she said contently. "I think I'll take this to go."

"Yumi," William's voice was pronounced in the silence of the bakery. It was authoritative and arrogant, much like the person who it belonged to. "Sit with me."

Yumi hadn't expected him to go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness. William was too vain to do so, and he had an annoying habit of thinking that all of his thoughts and actions were correct and supremely right. God forbid you might go against him, that was clearly a sign that you were crazy. Yumi was having some trouble remembering exactly why she was dating him. No, wait, that was wrong. She knew exactly why she was dating him. William was the sort of guy that would drive her parents out of their minds; the very opposite of what they wanted for her. He was bossy, narrow minded, vain, and highly impulsive. Dating him was just another way to defy her parents.

"I don't think so," Yumi's voice was cold.

"Please," William grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry, I've been a jerk. Let me make it up to you."

The waitress was paying close attention to the scene before her. Yumi could feel her gaze boring into her back. William was manipulating the situaton; he knew she hated drawing attention to herself, especially in public places. The thought of someone manipulating her, or attempting to, made Yumi's blood simmer. Drawing back her expression, it was priority to appear calm and composed, Yumi followed William to their routine table. She was gripping the styrofoam cup so tightly she was afraid her nails might break through. The hot coffee warmed her hands but not her heart; it felt like ice.

The whole thing made Yumi feel a little sick. She wasn't even angry at William -- it was more at herself and her inability to move forward. A thousand miles away and her parents still had their hands tight around her neck.

William slid into the seat opposite hers and she followed.

"I'm sorry," William repeated. He scratched his the back of his head self consciously and dug his hands into his pocket. Yumi guarded her expression a little more; he was putting on quite the act. William wanted to come across as the good guy so she could feel guilty and give into falling under his control. Obviously, Yumi's eyes narrowed a bit, he had no idea who she was. If she cared about him she might correct his misconception. But she didn't, so instead, Yumi sat back and sipped her coffee as the same apology, in different words, tumbled ceaselessly out of his mouth.

Fortunately, William's cell phone rang and cut off his melodramatic, insufferable speech. A high pitched, whiny voice blared out of the speaker. William pressed the phone a little to his ear as to mute the sound but it was to no avail. Apparently, whichever girl -- because it was a girl, there was no doubt about that -- was on the other end of the line was not pleased. William tried to placate her but failed -- the girl's screams could be heard across the room.

"I'm sorry," William said. Something in Yumi's heart caught when he looked her in the eye. He was lying to her, straight to her face! Yumi swallowed her disgust with another gulp of coffee. A moment later William added, "It's my sister."

Which was funny, particularly because one of the things William had clarified shortly after they starting seeing each other was that his parents spoiled him because he was an only child. You don't care about him, Yumi reminded herself. It didn't matter. It still hurt.

Yumi stood up, clutching the styrofoam cup so tightly that creases were forming and her fingers were white from the lack of circulation.

"I"m going," Yumi said dismissively. Her tone was cool. William didn't even bother to look up, he was too engrossed in his phone conversation. The only inclination he gave that he had heard her was the raise of a hand. Yumi whipped around so quickly she felt her neck cramp. She was dangerously close to losing her temper.

The jingle of the bell as she closed the door behind her didn't register in her mind. The steady crunch of snow beneath her boots seemed a million miles away. All Yumi could hear was her blood pounding in her ears. Which, in retrospect, would have explained why she didn't see Ulrich standing in front of her. She knocked into him quite hard, and tumbled into the ground gracelessly.

Yumi swore as Ulrich offered his hand and helped her up. Upon closer inspection, he looked out of breath. Yumi spotted his car, parked less than three yards away, running. The key was still in the ignition, the door slightly ajar.

"You're an idiot," Yumi snapped and then relented when she heard the trickle of anger that had leaked into her voice. It wasn't Ulrich's fault that William was such an asshole. "You shouldn't leave your car open like that," she amended.

Ulrich was still catching his breath and couldn't reply. Yumi's mouth curved into a half smile, "You ran all this way to see me?"

Ulrich's expression was halfway torn between trying to look nonchalant and cheerful.

"Would it make me any less charming if I said yes?"

"Maybe," Yumi laughed. "But who said you were charming in the first place?"

"Ouch," Ulrich placed his hand over his heart in mock pain. "That was cruel."

Yumi grinned, "I know."

"Shouldn't you be getting to school?"

Yumi checked her wrist but belatedly realized that she no longer wore a watch. "Right," she said.

"Do you want a ride," Ulrich offered.

"Of course not," Yumi said matter of factly. "I'm just standing here in below freezing temperatures to dazzle the passing pedestrians with my beauty."

"You're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

"Yes, Einstein," Yumi laughed. It sounded hallowed out. She realized she was laughing at herself. If she didn't stop soon she could very well start crying or launch into hysterics. Yumi couldn't decided which would be worse.

* * *

William was waiting for her when class ended. He looked deeply troubled. Which meant he was probably thinking about his hair.

"Listen," his voice indicated that he had been thinking about what to say for a while. "I've been really stressed lately. I've been running back and forth between record labels and they're all booked because of some stupid kid MTV is importing from overseas."

Yumi could care less. William went on. "I'm doing this for us," he dramatized. "If I get signed then I promise I'll spend all the time you want with you."

Yumi was confused. She couldn't understand why William was putting so much effort into pleasing her when he could easily just get another girl, an airhead, who would be with him regardless of what he did. Could it be because he knew she didn't care about him? Was it that William needed someone as detached as he was? Yumi rationalized that William wanted someone who could impress a crowed of people if she were ever in public and simultaneously not criticize or question his actions.

Eyeing him warily, Yumi slid into the passenger seat of his car. He closed the door and made his way to the other side. William took her getting into his car as a sign of forgiveness and that troubled, oh so depressed, please pity me look was wiped off his face almost instataneously. He really was quite good at manipulation. It was unfortunate for him that she was better.

Halfway to her house, William started talking again much to Yumi's dismay. "Don't worry babe," his said in his over confident voice. "Once I get signed you won't have to worry about anything. All you'll have to do is look pretty while they photograph us."

"Excuse me," Yumi said. If there was something she hated in this world was to be perceived as incompetent just because she was a girl. Her father had been a strong believer in that women should be demure, brainless, and always compliant. It seemed William was expressing the same thought.

"I mean," William went on, oblivious to Yumi's tense posture. "I don't know why you even bother going to school. I mean, there are more than enough nurses in the world."

"I'm studying to become a _doctor_," Yumi snapped.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I don't see any reason why you should waste your time. I mean, you're hot and you can just find a guy who will buy you everything you need."

Yumi's mouth was hanging open. William took it as a sign of shock due to excitement. He grinned, "Yeah, I'll take care of you. You won't have to worry about a single --"

In mid street, Yumi unlocked the door. William stopped the car abruptly. Yumi grabbed her bag and stormed out of the car.

"Yumi," William called. "What are you doing?"

Yumi was trying to focus on breathing in and out, in and out, in and out --

"Yumi, get back in here!"

He was following her with his car. Yumi gave him the finger.

This seemed to convince him to desist because his car disappeared from her peripheral vision minutes later. Twenty minutes later, frozen to death and angrier than she had been in a while, Yumi marched into her apartment.

It was five thirty nine. Yumi threw her bag on the floor, uncaring of what might happen to the contents. She fell into her bed and buried her face into her pillow. Her scream was comfortingly muffled against the fabric.

No one believed in her. Her father didn't believe in her because she was a woman, her mother didn't believe in her because she wasn't traditional, William didn't believe in her because he thought she was incompetent -- God must have been laughing at her.

When Yumi woke up it was half past eleven and her mouth felt very dry. She had fallen asleep and had a very nasty dream about going to pick up her diploma only to be told that she hadn't graduated at all. Instead of a diploma, the receptionist had given her a white, nondescript piece of paper with the word FAILURE stamped across in angry red.

She needed to talk to someone. Her parents were out of the question and so was William. She didn't really know anyone else in the city. That left one person. Yumi swore to herself. Her life really was the epitome of irony.

* * *

Ulrich didn't ask questions. He opened the door, saw her, and let her in. Then he started making coffee. It was hard not to like him.

He was half asleep so he probably thought this was a dream, or depending on how he felt about girls showing up in the early hours of the morning, a nightmare. Yumi suddenly realized that the only reason why he came to the bakery _was_ because of her. She had only been teasing earlier, but with an espresso machine in his own house why would he go anywhere else? Yumi didn't feel flattered, just a little cornered. That may have just been the weight of the day catching up to her though.

Kiwi was snoring in the corner. This time Yumi did pet him. He wagged his tail appreciatively before settling back into sleep.

"So, um," Ulrich's voice was drugged with sleep. "Do you usually show up in the middle of the night to people's houses who you've just met? Or am I just special?"

"You're special," Yumi said as she took a long sip of her coffee. It was a little too sweet for her tastes. Ironic, especially in Ulrich's circumstances. Ulrich smiled, obviously flattered by her compliment.

"Special in the 'You're so easy to take advantage of and I can get free coffee from you' way, or special in the 'You're so irresistible I couldn't wait until tomorrow morning to see you so I came in the middle of the night to your house' way?"

Yumi laughed, "Is there a third choice?"

Ulrich laughed with her. "So I'm special in the 'I'm madly in love with you so I've been stalking you for months and today I'm finally making my move' way?"

Yumi gawked, "That's the third choice?"

Ulrich nodded.

"Wow," Yumi said. "You really _are_ special." And crazy.

They shared a companionable silence and when Yumi was done with her coffee, Ulrich gathered up their cups and placed them in the sink.

"You're really domestic," Yumi pointed out.

"You're not?" Ulrich asked as he washed the cups. There was something soothing in the sound of the water rushing down.

Yumi actually snorted, "I"m domestically impaired. If I ever cook for you it's because I'm trying to poison you."

"Hmm," Ulrich murmured and look a little panicked. "I guess having a picnic is out of the question then."

"No," Yumi said thoughtlessly. "So long as you bring the food."

"You do realize you just accepted into having a picnic with me, right?"

Clever. "No, I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No, I did -- you're doing this on purpose, aren't you."

Ulrich smiled, "It's hard to provoke emotion from you. You're always so practical. You're very beautiful when you're angry, by the way."

Yumi blushed. She couldn't think of anything to say. Standing up, she suddenly declared; "I"m going to become a neurologist." Yumi never bothered to correct William whenever he assumed she was doing something easy and not challenging. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Ulrich turned around, back against the sink. He was drying his hands with a colorful towel. He looked thoughtful.

"That's impressive," he said. "It suits you."

"Really?"

"Really. It doesn't surprise me that you're ambitious."

It didn't matter that she'd met him less than a week ago, Ulrich believed in her and that prompted her to do something she'd never done with a man who she wasn't dating or wasn't her father. Ulrich seemed surprised when she swung her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Highly embarrassed that she had just emoted in public -- her of all people -- Yumi drew back.

"Thanks for the coffee."

Without another word, she gathered up her bag and walked to the door. Luckily, the combination of locks wasn't too difficult and Yumi got it on the first try. Ulrich didn't say anything. He was probably still in a state of shock.

Ulrich watched the door close and when it was clear that Yumi had left, he smiled absently.

* * *

Even longer than the last one. What do you guys think?


	5. Five

It was raining outside. The room was in darkness and an odd sense of deja vu wormed its way into Yumi's heart. A bus halted at a curb nearby. She could hear the brakes screeching to a halt, voices merged into indistinct sound. It was nice. It was peaceful.

It was lonely.

_It's hard to provoke emotion from you._

Two years ago that would have been a compliment. Now, it just hurt a little. Her father had always stressed the importance of emotion as a weakness. _If you let someone know how you feel, unavoidably, they'll use it to their advantage. People are just too greedy, too selfish, too power hungry not to. Even if you think someone cares about you, don't let them know. It's dangerous. _Those were his words, more or less. However, now that she looked back on it, that was probably just another chip in his sexist bravado.

According to him, women were over emotional and thus, weak. And yet, Ulrich Stern had managed to defy years of hard work. He had unconsciously defied the philosophy that her father had imposed on her for so many years, making it impossible for Yumi to be honest, to be emotionally intimate.

_You're very beautiful when you're angry, by the way_.

There was an odd moment in her head thinking of that. Yumi lingered behind a series of masks, there was always a perfected smile for each emotion. Whenever she was angry her mouth would draw into a thin, tight line and the corners of her mouth would be pinched. Then, after a few moments of convincing herself that she well enough to try at deception, her smile began to unwind and her voice became unpleasantly pleasant. But it was no use. Whenever Ulrich was in the room, her masks failed. It was as if something deep inside of her was saying, _sorry, there's no point now. He knows you inside out and there's nothing you can do about it._

Which, when your life was all about control, was a bit unnerving. What did Ulrich see when he looked at her? Did he see a lonely little girl who never gained her parents approval? Did he see insecurity? The almost desperate need to please people? She didn't know! It was frustrating and it was terrifying.

Is this how other people feel?

The question bounced back and forth inside her skull. Yumi knew everything about everyone. Whether it'd be the basest desires, the most corrupted dreams, the brightest ambitions; Yumi always made it her business to know. People where easy to manipulate. It was as simple as that. And after gaining what she wanted, Yumi quietly distanced herself from them.

In turn, these people knew nothing about her. They read into her as far as the surface, falling in love with her sympathy or easy acceptance. Their comprehension of who she was and how she felt was severely limited if not nonexistent.

Ulrich, it seemed, was not one for rules. In contrast to the rest of the world, he refused to be distanced. He had integrated himself into Yumi's life seamlessly and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to keep going.

For the first time in her life, Yumi didn't know what she wanted.

* * *

It was four in the afternoon. If she wasn't feeling so wretched and unbalanced Yumi would have been out of bed. As routine dictated, Yumi had woken up at five thirty in the morning, ready to get dressed and head out to her partake in her morning indulgence. Instead, she had stared at the fan directly above her bed, mesmerized by the eight identical and symmetrical blades.

Going without coffee made her head hurt.

Eventually, Yumi dragged herself upright and to the kitchen. She ransacked the cabinets for anything quick, and with much displeasure only found a can of soup and a box of saltine crackers. Yumi animated herself to eat the soup but not the crackers.

William called. It was to be expected. Yumi buried her face in her pillow, bending it over her head as to block out the sound.

* * *

On the fourth day of her self imposed isolation, Yumi dreamed she was getting married.

Her dress was itching her and when she lowered the sleeves her skin was an angry red. She complained to her mother who shook her head sadly as she slipped the sleeve back into place. At first she couldn't see the groom's face, then as she glanced back at the people in the pews and turned back, William stood waiting for her.

"Do not dishonor me," her father's breath was heavy on her neck. He walked behind her, eliminating any chance she might have of escape. Yumi's palms were sweating and her veil was becoming more opaque by the second. By the time she reached the alter she could see nothing.

The words of the priest were undecipherable in her ears. Yumi focused on the sensation of fingers pulling up the veil from her face, soft and coaxing. It almost felt pleasant. The veil lifted from her face, Yumi could now see clearly.

Standing before her, as if he had never seen anything beautiful in his life before, was Ulrich.

--

On the fifth day, Yumi swore she was suffering from caffeine withdrawal.

She ate the saltine crackers with a bit of milk. William called again.

Yumi disconnected her phone from the wall.

--

In her dreams Ulrich was calling out for her but Yumi couldn't hear what he was saying.

"What?"

The static in the background stilled and Ulrich said,

"Wait for me."

* * *

On the six night her dreams came true. Sort of.

The room was dark, as usual, the temperature stifling. Yumi pressed her head to the cool steel of the door, savoring the stillness of the moment. She felt impossibly hot and terribly alone. Yumi hadn't realized she was crying until her fingers crossed her face and the streaks of silver illuminated her fingertips.

Something in her chest ached.

"Yumi?"

"Go away."

"Open the door," It was unmistakable who that voice belonged to. It was not diminished one decibel because of the door.

"No."

"I brought coffee."

Of all the dirty tricks to pull. "I'm not going to open the door."

"Not for me?"

"Especially not for you."

"That's cruel, Yumi. After all the time I invested in you."

Yumi actually snorted, "We've known each other for less than a week, Ulrich."

"Romeo and Juliet got married after three days," Ulrich pointed out.

"And died before the week was over," Yumi countered. "I hope you're not trying to imply anything."

"Open the door," Ulrich repeated.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I was worried about you," Ulrich said conversationally. He made emotion look so easy. "That and the fact that I have no life."

"I can see that," Yumi murmured.

"Oh, there are some letters out here, I thought you should know," there was a pause and the sound of scuffling between letters and fingers. "One of them has no stamp, I guess someone dropped it off here personally."

Yumi sighed, "What does the handwriting look like?"

"Terrible," Ulrich laughed, then sobered up. "... Unless it's from your mom or something like that. Then the handwriting looks really, um --"

"It's not from my mother," Yumi interrupted. Her mother wouldn't write to her if she was on a falling plane. "Stop looking through my correspondence. That's against the law."

It was from William. No doubt about it. If you couldn't read it, he wrote it.

"You can throw it in the trash," Yumi said a bit darkly "And while you're at it, you can leave."

"You're rutheless," Ulrich said, not sounding hurt at all. "But I must warn you, you can't stop me from liking you."

"Really," Yumi's voice was dry. Her heart was involuntarily skipping. It was very unsettling. "I thought showing up at your house and taking advantage of you would have turned you off."

"You didn't take advantage of me," Ulrich clarified. "And if you would have, I wouldn't have minded."

Yumi rolled her eyes, "Is there anything _important_ you want to talk about?"

Ulrich didn't rise to the bait. "Well, for starters, you can tell me why you've been crying."

Clever boy. He was just waiting for the right moment to ease into this sort of conversation. It dawned on Yumi that she had severely underestimated Ulrich Stern.

"I hate you."

Ulrich laughed, "So soon? Girls usually wait until after the second date to say that."

"... do you really have coffee out there?"

"Yes, darling."

"Don't call me that," It was hard to contain the curve at the ends of her lips.

"Sugarplum?"

"No."

"Baby?"

"Not on your life."

"Cutie pie?"

"Quit while you're ahead."

"Reichlich?"

"What?"

"It means precious, in German."

"Oh," a pause. "No."

"Yumi --"

"Yes," a smile. "I think I like that one."

--

In her dreams he came again. In her dreams she opened the door.

* * *

All your quick feedback really inspired/encouraged me write. More dialogue in this chapter and some very important points. I wonder if anyone can catch the symbolism in the chapter. Most of you were right -- Yumi is through with William, but William isn't gone. What do you guys think?


	6. Six

* * *

This was her room. She recognize the bed from when the edge hit her knees and caused her to fall backwards. The ceiling came into her line of vision for just a moment before being obstructed by a larger, swinging silhouette. She laughed carelessly as his hands slipped into her dress, held her breath as he descended. A breathless little murmur escaped her lips and his own voice, deeper, heavier, silenced her.

The room was characteristically bleak as Yumi opened her eyes. _It was a dream_, she convinced herself. _There's nothing wrong with being attracted to him. Lust is fine. Its love I'll never do. _A little disappointed with herself, Yumi rummaged through drawers to find adequate clothing. She had tried so very hard to avoid this. His presence had been intrusive from the beginning and Yumi simply could not control him. The solution was simple: eliminate Ulrich Stern from her life.

If he would not distance himself voluntarily then she would have to force him. Yumi did not like to resort to these sort of measures but Ulrich was creeping in through the cracks of her armor and it made her shiver. Yumi hated to admit it, but, the only reason things got so far was because she'd let them. What was it about Ulrich that weakened her defenses? What exactly did he do that reduced her to a simpering little girl?

They could have been friends. He seemed like the adventurous sort and he liked coffee. Coffee made for automatic best friend status in Yumi's book. They would have gone around while he was in New York and he would write when in Germany. It sounded pretty, but with a deflated sigh, the truth snuck up on Yumi.

They could never be friends. Not when she was so blatanly attracted to him and he returned the favor. If he wasn't attracted to her he wouldn't be hanging around. No one was generally charming; if people were laying their time at your feet it was because they were interested in something. Ulrich wanted something from her, but what? She didn't have money or any connections to speak of. She was just an average girl studying in New York in hopes for a little freedom.

Was it possible that Ulrich liked her simply because of herself? No, people like that didn't exist. That was the one thing her father had taught her that had yet to be proven wrong. Ulrich was just another opportunist. Yumi simply had to gain the upper hand. If she stopped seeing him her life would regain it's equilibrium and in a few months things would be relatively unremarkable. She wouldn't have to deal with the hassle of William or the inconvenience of Ulrich.

Slightly satisfied with her calculations, Yumi slipped into the shower and turned the knobs with familiar ease. The scorching water felt like hands and Yumi didn't bother to pretend she wasn't thinking about him.

* * *

"Miss Yumi," the receptionist greeted her as if she was her long lost sister. "Haven't seen you around! Your boyfriends came looking for you."

"Hello," Yumi returned meekly. This girl was really starting to freak her out. "I won't be staying, I just wanted to know if you're serving cheesecake--"

"What's the rush?"

A well pronounced groan from the receptionist and a pinched smile from Yumi as she swerved around. "William," she greeted with mock cheerfulness. "What are you doing here? It's nearly three in the afternoon."

It was precisely because it was nearly three in the afternoon that Yumi had decided to abandon her nomadic existence and make her way to the bakery. There was no way that Ulrich would be around, much less William. In less words; it would be perfect.

"I've been waiting for you."

Or not.

"I can't imagine why," Yumi smiled politely. "I thought we had finished talking."

"We haven't finished anything," William's tone was a little vicious as he grabbed on to her arm. Yumi winced in pain. "Let go of me," she bit out.

William raised an eyebrow at her tone. "Or what?"

"Or you'll have to deal with me."

_Kill me now_, Yumi thought as she glanced Ulrich in the doorway. She'd never been particularly interested in being part of a cliche and today was no exception. "Now, now," Yumi waved her hands as to call attention. "There's no reason why --"

"Is _this_ the reason you haven't answered my phone calls?"

William's grip on Yumi's arm tightened. She could feel a bruise flowering underneath her sleeve. "He has nothing to do with this," she grounded out. Her arm was starting to hurt. Yumi tried to maneuver out of his hold but to no avail.

"Of course," William let out a bark of laughter. "No wonder you wouldn't let me touch you," Yumi stiffened. "You were with this guy all along."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

Yumi's voice was excruciatingly high in the silence.

"I think he's implying that you're a whore," the receptionist offered. The girl shrank back when she saw Yumi's withering look. Apparently it was a rhetorical question.

"If you weren't with him," William's voice was low. "Then why did he come looking for you yesterday?"

It suddenly dawned on Yumi that both William and Ulrich had frequented the bakery in search for her. Regardless, she was in no mood for rationale.

"For the same reason your _sister_ calls you," Yumi spat out. A momentary expression of shock settled into William's face. Had he honestly believed that she was that stupid? That naive? Yumi flexed her arm experimentally and winced. She rolled up the sleeve to survey the damage. "Just as she'd suspected, an ugly purple bruise was forming.

"I'm going to kill you," Ulrich said to William and for one terrifying moment, Yumi thought he might be telling the truth.

"Don't," she intervened. "He's not worth it." Then, as if it were an after thought. "I don't need you to defend me."

Ulrich didn't hear her or pretended not to, "I'm going to make you regret the day you were born."

Yumi sighed, _seriously?_ Were they reading from a script?

"Look William," Yumi started, very slowly, as if speaking to a child. "What we had is over. Did you hear that? OVER. So please stop looking for me." She turned around to face Ulrich. "Listen," Yumi stopped. She had no idea what to say to him. He hadn't done anything wrong. Which, ironically, was the problem. "Thank you for being so ..." _Idiotic? Charming? Annoyingly cute?_ "... _thoughtful_, but I don't need you to look after me. I really don't need you to do me any favors and I _really _don't need you to look through my mail."

"Yumi," she could almost see the gears spinning inside William's head. "I love you."

Yumi rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up. _You_ don't even believe that."

"Fine," William snarled. "But when you come crawling back--"

"Don't hold your breath," Ulrich cut in smoothly.

William seemed to have realized that his little facade was over. He gave Yumi one last look and then proceeded to march out of the bakery. When he was gone, Yumi let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"I thought you were going to fight him," she almost laughed. She settled for punching Ulrich in the arm with her good arm. "You idiot. Stay away from me."

Perfect, now she just needed to make a dramatic exit and Ulrich would forget about her forever. The receptionist handed Yumi a brown paper bag with a cup of coffee inside. "I guessed you might want it to go," she said sheepishly. Then she added as Yumi dug into her pocket, "Don't worry, it's on the house."

Yumi nodded and slid her coat into place. Her perfectly calculated day had just crashed and splintered into a million pieces. Unsurprisingly, Ulrich followed her out the door. She was halfway down the street before he cut her off.

"I'm sorry," he babbled. "I don't know what _for_, but I'm sorry."

He was too good. "You're really sweet," Yumi amended. "But you can't like me."

Ulrich didn't even bother denying it, "Why not?"

"Because," Yumi paused. Then she uttered the single most irrefutable reason there could be. "You're shorter than me."

Ulrich blinked. "That's it?" He laughed. "By like an _inch_."

"You live far away," Yumi objected.

"I'm in New York permanently," Ulrich was smiling now. "Try again."

"You're um, too ..." Yumi was running out of excuses. There had to be a perfectly good reason as to why this wouldn't work! "You're weird," she said at last. Then, when Ulrich didn't say anything she gained momentum. "That's right! Who else has conversations through the door? Goes to a coffee shop when they have an expreso machine in their house? Matches all the time? You have better hair than me! That's a sign of trouble." Yumi nodded her head vehememtly.

Ulrich's hand's gripped her shoulders. His eyes bored into hers. Something wrapped around Yumi's spine.

"I'm sorry I'm not taller than you," his smile widened. "Or that I'm not normal. I'm also sorry I have strange urges to visit a bakery for no other reason than to see a beautiful girl in the morning. You can blame my wardrobe on my um --," at this he paused, measuring his words. "Just forget the wardrobe, okay? I'll _unmatch_ if you want."

"What about your hair?"

"I'll never wash it again," Ulrich grinned. "I'll put gel into it every day. I'll never cut it."

"And the conversations through the door," Yumi's voice was losing conviction.

Ulrich's voice, in turn, was softer. Amused and almost adoring. "If you would have opened the door that would have never happened."

"I wanted to," Yumi said without thinking. She caught herself and shook her head. "It would never work."

"Why not?"

Yumi didn't miss a beat, "I don't like you."

"Hmm," Ulrich was still smiling. "That's not what the receptionist said."

Damn receptionist, Yumi was going to kill her. "I don't even know her! How would she know?"

"Why would you let me give you a ride to school? Help me clean up my apartment? Have coffee with me?"

"It's cold out, of course I wouldn't want to walk," Yumi pointed out. "You dragged me to your apartment and you _stalked_ me to the bakery. I didn't have coffee with you -- I was having coffee and you invited yourself."

Her words stung, she could see it in his eyes. But if there was something Ulrich proved to be, it was persistent.

"The receptionist warned me about this. Something about you denying your feelings."

That girl was dead _and _buried.

"You can't force me to like you," Yumi said, exasperated.

"Why can't you just admit you like me," Ulrich retorted. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of ANYTHING_," _and just like that, all the restraint Yumi had ever placed on herself for the sake of appearances disappeared. "You don't know anything about me! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

By the time Yumi realized she was crying it was too late. Ulrich had already seen what Yumi considered the worst of weaknesses. He stepped forward to put his arms around her but Yumi brushed him off.

"Stop it," Yumi said in between tears. "If you think I'm crying for you, you're wrong."

"I know," Ulrich said, and reached for her again, this time successfully. "I know."

* * *

They ended up in his apartment. Ulrich had shuffled her into his car after she had successfully dehydrated herself. She croaked out a request to be driven home but Ulrich ignored it. Secretly, Yumi was glad. She didn't think she could be alone at that particular moment.

There was an odd silence between them. It was neither tense nor comfortable. The only thing Yumi was feeling now was humiliation and embarrassment. She had been overwrought from the break up with William, the isolation, and the emotional confrontation had been the last straw. It was the closest Yumi had come to a nervous breakdown in years.

Ulrich parked, walked over to her side, and helped her out. Her eyes hurt from crying and her arm still pulsed with pain from the altercation with William. When Ulrich poured her a cup of coffee, Yumi said,

"I'm still not dating you."

Ulrich smiled, "That's unimportant now."

He was putting her over himself. Yumi wanted to hit him for being so good. "You're hiding something," she thought aloud and found she didn't care. "There's something you're not telling me."

"You're right," Ulrich admited. "But I haven't lied to you if that's what you're asking."

Yumi thought she ought to try, "Are you going to stop coming after me?"

"Nope," Ulrich replied cheerfully. "Not on your life."

Then, the most important thing. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I love you," he said it as if it was nothing. As if it was obvious.

"You don't know me," Yumi protested. "You don't know anything about me."

"If you're talking about things like your favorite color or what books you've read, then you'd be right. But how important are those things? Yumi," he paused. "That day, in the bakery, when you stopped what you were doing to help me --"

She should have just drank her stupid coffee. But now it was too late.

"You didn't have to do that. When you came here in the middle of the night, you could have gone anywhere else, but you didn't." He gripped her shoulders again and it felt like deja vu. The cup of coffee trembled in her hands. "You're good and kind," Ulrich continued. "You're opinionated, sarcastic, and independent. You like your coffee with two sugars, milk, and a spoonful of cream. You're polite. You don't let people walk all over you. You want to help people. You're ambitious. You're determined and you don't let anyones opinion of you weigh you down."

His voice lowered. "Does it really matter that I don't know what your favorite cereal is?"

"I hate you," Yumi replied. "I hate you because I like you. I hate the way you're so honest and trusting. I hate the way you're so inconveniently charming. I hate the way you write songs because I think it's sweet. I hate the way you know when to not ask questions and just make coffee. I hate that you have a really cute dog. I hate that you like me." She put her cup down. "I really hate that you refuse to give up on me."

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?"

Yumi smiled for the first time that day, "No."

"Good," Ulrich smiled back. "I won't make this easy on you either."

"This doesn't mean anything," Yumi stated after a silence.

Ulrich took her cup from her hands, fingers skimming her skin, making her shiver.

"No," he corrected. "This means everything."

* * *

I worked super hard on this chapter. I think you can see why. What did you guys think? Review and tell me :)


	7. Seven

The sun was setting in the distance. Ulrich was seated opposite her, coffee beside him, Dante's _Inferno_ cradled in his hand. Yumi never took him for the bookish type, and perhaps he was just trying to impress her because he hadn't turned the page in well over an hour. How long had it been since she had watched someone like this? Observed them without any fear of the unavoidable backlash of being caught? Studying without any intent, no ulterior motive behind a pretty smile or a helpless flutter of eyelashes; the concept seemed alien and with a bit of the emotion that was so familiar to her, Yumi raised her defenses higher than ever. And yet, what was the point? He was keeping her here, not just in his apartment, but in his world, without so much as lifting a finger. It was that stupid innocence in his face, that ready smile, those charming letters, strung together with feeling and made impossible to resist. What was she supposed to do when the defense she'd so cleverly crafted in direct correlation to her previous relationships was rendered useless now? Ulrich was like nothing she'd seen before. It wasn't that he was pure and wholesome, it wasn't that he was as smart (if not smarter) than her, it wasn't anything pinpoint precise. It was him. It seemed as if the universe had picked the best out of everything and assembled it into one person. Ulrich wasn't perfect, no one was, but he was pretty damn close.

Which was the problem, naturally. Yumi had a nasty habit of comparing herself to the men in her life; smarter than her father? better than William? There was always something, always an upper hand to be gained. Here, there was no challenge, no ante, no attack. Ulrich was simply sitting before her, sipping coffee, reading. She was just siting in front of him, watching his eyes go from left to right and again. There was no malice, no ploy, no manipulation. Yumi was in awe.

"You know," Ulrich started conversationally. His eyes never left the page. "You could just sit here, next to me."

"I could," Yumi agreed slowly. "But where's the fun in that? I'd rather sit here and watch you pretend read."

"I've read this book before," Ulrich said, thumb flickering through the pages and smiled as they fluttered back into place. "I've read the entire Divine Comedy."

He finally looked up and there was something in his eyes, as if he had just said something terribly important and she was supposed to say something in return. Someone had forgotten to give her the script, however, and Yumi said nothing. "Impressed," he asked, and a slow, lazy smile characterized his face. If he was expecting her to inflate his ego, he'd come to the wrong person.

"No," Yumi replied flippantly. "The framed portrait of the cover of Gatsby in the hallway, the littered pages of music on the floor near your bedroom, which I can only assume slipped out from your room by air, the wide collection of classical and alternative music you listen to, it's all given you away." A smile, because Yumi couldn't help herself. "I'm afraid I've discovered your secret," she lowered her voice conspicuously. "Despite what everybody else thinks, you actually have a brain."

Ulrich actually laughed, but in his laughter there was something else. Something sad and triumphant. In an odd way, Yumi felt like she had said exactly what he needed to hear. It was painfully similiar to that night, in this same place, when she'd declared she wanted to become a doctor.

Maybe they were more similar than she had originally thought. Maybe there was something to the way they were around each other, relaxed and almost automatic. Maybe there was something to the fact that no matter how hard she fought against it, against him, Yumi only wound up getting closer, deeper.

She wanted to know. "Why me? Why are you trying so hard? How could you say that you ... _love_ me?" The word sounded like a curse, like something blasphemous.

"See," he grinned. "That's the thing about other people. They see the magnificence in us even when we don't. If you saw yourself the way I see you, you wouldn't be asking me those questions."

"You're wrong," Yumi retorted. "No one knows you better than yourself; people love each other blindly. If everyone knew everyone absolutely, I'm pretty sure people wouldn't fall in love as fast, as easily. You see," she mimicked. "People don't fall in love with people. They fall in love with beauty, grace, charm, money, the works. When those things fade, it's no wonder people get divorced or have affairs."

"That's sad," Ulrich murmured as he watched the remains of his coffee lap listlessly in the cup. "You don't believe in love, or at least, you don't want to believe it. But that's alright. Do you know why?"

Her voice was almost inaudible, "Why?"

The triumph was dazzling now, it was buried in the corner of his mouth, in his irises, in his heart. "Belief is logic. You have to think to believe. Love is feeling. You don't have to think to love, you just have to feel."

"You should work for Hallmark," Yumi commented dryly. "Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, Othello?"

"I have," Ulrich put his coffee down, ready to counter. "Have you read Jane Eyre, Twelfth Night, Candide?"

"Now," Yumi paused, for dramatic effect. Her lips were already made into a lavish smile. "I'm impressed."

* * *

It was around nine that Ulrich proposed she'd sleep over. "So that Kiwi won't feel alone," he explained. Yumi wasn't buying it, but agreed because she didn't want to walk or take the bus this late or be imposing and force Ulrich to drive her home.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to sleep on floor," Ulrich looked sorry. "I haven't looked into furniture yet and you can't sleep in my room, for obvious reasons."

Or not so obvious. When Prince Charming incarnate denies you a commodity, that meant something was amiss.

"I want to see your room," Yumi declared suddenly. If he knew some of her secrets, it was only fair that she return the favor. "Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean."

"There's nothing there," Ulrich replied.

"Why can't you trust me," Yumi accused. "You're hiding something in there."

"Listen," Ulrich started. "I'm just trying to ... protect you, that's all."

Yumi raised an eyebrow. "Unless you keep a collection of cabbage patch kids or some less than decent movies in there, I don't see the danger."

"It's my parents," Ulrich muttered. "I have a lot of pictures of my parents in there ... and I don't want you to see them."

"Why not?"

Ulrich laughed, but the sound was different. It was half composed of bitterness and of anxiety. "You'll see soon enough," he replied vaguely.

If anything, Yumi became more suspicious, "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Ulrich laughed nervously. "My parents like to ... check on me every now and again. Tomorrow is every now and again."

"Huh," Yumi said, unintelligibly. "I don't have to be here, you know."

"I know," something flickered in his eyes. "There are some other people coming too. I want you to meet them."

This was getting more mysterious by the second. "Your parents or the other people?"

"Both," Ulrich conceded.

"But," Yumi paused, making sure she was calculating correctly. "You just told me you don't want me to go into your room because there are pictures of them in there ... but you have no problem with me meeting them?"

"They're, um, scary looking?"

"In my world," Yumi was almost smiling but precaution held her firm. "When people meet each other, they see each other."

"I'm not who you think I am," Ulrich admitted. Yumi's eyebrow rose even further. Here it was, the deep, dark secret. He was a henchmen for the mafia, a pimp, a transvestite; in New York anything was possible. He added reluctantly, "... I've got money."

Yumi looked at the apartment and then back to him. "Really," she said sarcastically. "I would have _never_ noticed."

"Well, my parents are the ones with the money," he went on, agitated. "They're the kind of people that think money is everything. I don't really like them and they don't really like me --"

"Point taken," Yumi interjected. "If you haven't noticed, I'm penniless. Wouldn't that make your parents hate me or something? And who are these other people?"

This time, Ulrich's smile was genuine. "Do you remember when I told you that Kiwi belonged to a friend who was traveling?" Yumi nodded. "Well, he's staying here for a couple of days. The other two people I want you to meet are coming with my parents. Since they have a common destination, they're going to meet up in an airport in France."

"Friends of yours?"

"Yes," Ulrich's smile widened. "I think you'll like them."

"I still don't understand why you want me to meet your parents."

"Well," Ulrich seemed a bit reluctant. "I guess I should be completely honest with you. The thing is, there's this girl coming with them. She's from a high profile family, good standing in society, a lot of money."

"In other words," Yumi completed wryly. "Your parent's dreamgirl."

"Yeah," Ulrich seemed relieved that she understood. "They've been trying to get me to marry her since I was twelve. I wanted them to stop nagging me so I told them I was with someone."

Yumi saw where this was going. "So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend while they're here?"

Ulrich's mouth curved into a grin, "Who said anything about pretending?"

Yumi had the decency to blush, "I already told you I'm not going to date you."

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

Yumi's blushed intensified. There were a couple of things that came to mind, "Nope."

"What if I kiss you?"

His very eyes were laughing at her. "You flatter yourself," Yumi said coolly, a contrast to how she felt inside. "What makes you think you're such a great kisser?"

Ulrich shrugged, "You could be right. Every single girl that I've kissed up to this point could have been sparing my feelings. You know," he paused dramatically. "It's horrible living in doubt. Why don't you put me out of my misery? I'll kiss you and you can tell me how it is."

"Nice try."

* * *

It was three in the morning and Coldplay was playing softly in the background. Ulrich had supplied Yumi with four comforters, three pillows, two cushions, and a tiny radio that ran on double A batteries. In the end, however, Ulrich felt so guilty about Yumi sleeping on the floor that he had decided to join her. They were now on the floor, side by side, staring at the ceiling. Ulrich was inherently asleep, but not quite, and Yumi couldn't shake the strangeness of her life. A month ago she had a shallow, predictable boyfriend. She had been closed off emotionally from everyone, always two steps behind, five minutes too late. Her life had an inane quality to it, a routine that had been comfortable. Now everything was different. Yumi wondered what it would have been like if she had been late to the bakery, or left early that day. If she had never run into Ulrich, where would she be? In the same place, was the easy answer.

Alone, was the hard one.

Meeting Ulrich's parents didn't scare her. The symbolism of the meeting did. How serious was Ulrich about her? Did he really love her? What was love to him? It couldn't be the same thing it was to her. It had only been little over a month, there was no way he could feel something so profound, so ridiculous. And yet ... Didn't Ulrich defy everything in her life? And what about these friends of his? Meeting new people always made Yumi particularly defensive -- she'd put up a polite facade until she decided what to do with them. However, because of Ulrich and his stupid ability to render her absolutely helpless, she'd have to face the judgement of his friends.

To think she wasn't even his girlfriend.

Her mind returned to her earlier thoughts; Ulrich wasn't chaining her to him. He hadn't kidnapped her, wasn't blackmailing her or manipulating her. Yumi was here, in this place, in this time, because she wanted to be.

Which, in retrospect, was the scariest thing of all.

--

Can anyone guess who the "other" people are? What do you think of Yumi's progress as a person? Oh, and for those who think William is gone forever ... he's not. You're going to be seeing a lot of familiar faces soon ...


	8. Eight

A shock of red hair and long, pale legs was the first Yumi saw of Aelita Stones. A large handbag at her shoulder, dark sunglasses over her eyes. A black camisole, solely obstructed by a gold necklace with a modest heart shaped pendant, caught the shimmer of fluorescent light as she took deliberate, calculated strides towards them. A boy, blond, tall and dressed inconspicuously, glanced at Aelita with something akin to adoration. Their hands were firmly intertwined, and Aelita was chatting him up with something that must have been funny because a moment later, the boy laughed.

Yumi could have easily confused Aelita for a foreign model and the boy for her consort. It wasn't until Aelita was decidedly walking in their direction that Ulrich said, "Oh, look, it's Aelita."

"Who?"

"Jeremie's with her, I would have expected Odd," Ulrich paused, as if he had unintentionally revealed something private. "I guess he isn't here yet..."

"Ulrich," Aelita promptly gave her handbag to Jeremie and rushed into Ulrich's arms. Her voice was demure but had a slight of salaciousness to it. A moment later her sunglasses were removed, revealing a pair of dark eyes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her lips, tinted red, slipped into a smile. "How have -- oh!" She glanced at Yumi and her smile lessened somewhat. "How rude of me," she went on in her bright voice. Then she did something completely unexpected -- she hugged Yumi as if they were separated at birth and had been reunited at long last. Yumi briefly wondered if Aelita was somehow related to the receptionist at the bakery. "I've heard lots about you."

"You have," Yumi managed as Aelita let go. Aelita clapped her hands as if something brilliant had just occurred to her. "Of course," she replied. "Ulrich tells Odd everything and Odd tells the whole world -- oops."

Ulrich was giving Aelita a dark look. Aelita simply laughed and patted Ulrich on the shoulder. "There, there," she said with a mock sympathy. "I'll make sure Odd behaves."

An outstretched hand caught Yumi by surprise, "Hello," it was the boy. "Since Ulrich has failed to be a good host, I suppose I'll have to introduce myself."

"Sorry Jeremie," Ulrich apologized, then turned to Yumi. "This is Jeremie Belpois. He's Aelita's --"

Boyfriend? Obviously.

"--stepbrother. Their parents were married last year."

"Oh," Yumi said gracelessly. The situation seem absurd, when the pair seemed more likely lovers than siblings. And there was no mistaking the way Jeremie looked at Aelita... "Nice to meet you," she finally said when she realized she was being impolite.

"Likewise," Jeremie replied.

"Odd is arriving tonight," Aelita smiled. "He had some arrangements to make before he left."

"Arrangments," Ulrich said in disbelief. "Don't tell me he --"

"Yes," Jeremie said with a sigh. "He broke up with her and stayed behind to send her flowers. Oh, and before I forget," he paused, smirking. "Your parents won't be arriving until the end of the week. The airline database was _mysteriously_ hacked yesterday and their reservations disappeared."

"How tragic," the sarcasm was dripping from Ulrich's voice. Then, curiously enough, he added, "Thanks, Jeremie. I owe you one." Which led Yumi to believe that Jeremie had something to do with the lost reservations. But that was impossible, not to mention illegal.

What kind of people were these?

"I'm really thirsty," Aelita collected her bag and folded her glasses, neatly tucking them in. "Would you guys get us some drinks? I think I saw a vending machine not too long ago."

Yumi knew a polite dismissal when she saw one, and also knew that an interrogation was about to commence. Wisely, Ulrich and Jeremie complied, shuffling away through the crowd. Aelita looped her arm through Yumi's, annihilating any chance of escape.

"So," she said in her characteristically cheerful voice. Yumi was beginning to think it was a facade, much like her own defense mechanism. Except, instead of cheerful, Yumi became cold at best, bitchy at worst. "What's the deal between you and Ulrich?"

_God, why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to deserve this? I mean, I know I cut class in middle school but that was just once! And yes, so I had a boyfriend behind my parents back -- why can't you go after the criminals? The murderers? McDonalds?_

"Yumi?"

Realizing she had lapsed into silence, Yumi steeled herself and answered as firmly as possible, "We're friends."

"Well, you need to stop being his friend," Aelita said, all business. "When that bitch arrives this weekend, you're going to need to be prepared. And you can't fight for your boyfriend when he's not your boyfriend."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't usually use such vulgar language," Aelita explained. "But when you meet her, you'll see that calling her anything else wouldn't be doing her justice."

* * *

From there, things got a bit strange. It all started when they had all made their way into Ulrich's car and Jeremie had casually asked, "So, Ulrich, how's the recording --"

"Jeremie," Ulrich interrupted him with haste. His voice was slighter louder than Jeremie's, in the way that people often employ when trying to silence someone. "Not yet," he emphasized and from Yumi's vantage point, which was directly diagonal from the driver's seat, he gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly. So tightly, in fact, that his fingertips turned white from the lack of circulation and when he at last let go of the wheel, the indentation of his hands were still there.

There could be no further proof that he was hiding something from her than that. Ulrich had said that there were some things he hadn't told her yet, and yet he had firmly reassured her that he had not lied to her either. It was confusing and frustrating.

After that particular incident, the car ride was relatively pleasant. Aelita sat in the front with Ulrich, pointing out various buildings to Jeremie with unmistakable enthusiasm. Jeremie answered each one of her calls neatly, and the patience and almost inexhaustible desire to please her was blatantly obvious. Yumi tried to rationalize in her head that perhaps it was just a brother/sister complex taken too far. But Jeremie killed that idea flawlessly as he caught Aelita's eyes as she turned back momentarily; it was as if he was gravitating towards her without moving at all, as if his fingers itched to touch her.

Jeremie and Aelita were staying at a local hotel, which was within relative distance of Ulrich's apartment. Aelita spoke less than ten words and Ulrich and Jeremie were already hauling all the luggage into the hotel lobby. Yumi drew the conclusion that Aelita was very handy in handing men. The valet took the luggage from then on and Jeremie bid Ulrich a systematic goodbye. He reinstated what a pleasure it was to meet her, and Yumi blushed as he smiled. Jeremie had a knack for making you feel the center of the world and Yumi could now understand why he and Aelita complemented so well. Aelita's goodbye was a little more dramatic, she hugged both Yumi and Ulrich without restraint, making Ulrich turn blue and Yumi a bit dizzy. Yumi was sure some of her neurons had died when Aelita let go, and it was a few seconds before she could form coherent thought.

As they re-entered the car, Ulrich said; "Thank you."

Yumi didn't turn to him, didn't bother asking what he was thanking her for; for a fleeting moment they were perfectly synchronized, and Yumi could feel his heart as if it was in her chest, feel his gratitude on her lips instead of his, saw the tangled quality of their relationship, saw the destruction of Jeremie and Aelita. And through the fog of jumbled thoughts, one particular thought broke through;

was this how they were? Did Ulrich gravitate to her the way Jeremie did to Aelita? Were they as transparent without taking hands into another, without sacrificing their opinions for the sake of not disagreeing? For a brief, troubling moment, Yumi realized that although their relationship was a direct contrast to that of Jeremie and Aelita, they were the same. It was that same impossibility, that same helplessness, the same optimism.

Was this love? No, Yumi reassured herself. There was no way that she could give herself to someone else when she couldn't get through to herself. This was just a mild infatuation, years and years of loneliness culminating into a desperate clinging. Maybe it was different for Ulrich. Perhaps what he felt was stronger, bigger than what Yumi could imagine. Just thinking of it gave her a headache.

"Ulrich," she felt silly for asking, silly for not having asked. Feeling very far away, and quite possibly annoyed with herself. "How are you happy?" It seemed poorly worded, because it was more complex than that. Instead of being confused, of thinking superficially and two dimensionally, Ulrich risked a glance at her and quickly looked ahead again.

"It's not enough to want to be happy," he said quietly. "You have to do something."

Yumi's voice was very, very careful, "Do what?" She doubted that he was paying attention to driving at this point, idly she wondered if they would get into an accident.

"It depends," Ulrich laughed. He was always laughing, as if there was something universally funny that she couldn't catch. "If you want ice cream, in order to be happy, you go to the store and buy some."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Ulrich paused. "It depends on what's making you unhappy."

And suddenly, the fragmented pieces made sense.

Ulrich wasn't the problem, _she_ was. The reason why she didn't want to tear herself away from Ulrich was because whenever she was with him, she was _with him_. She wasn't trapped inside herself, thinking the same things over, reaching a conclusion to only forget she'd found one in the first place. Ulrich freed herself from the restrictions of her mind, heart. And then the private joke finally made sense. Ulrich had seen it, from the beginning. He saw the fight inside of her, saw that she was pushing people away so she could deal with herself. He'd been wise enough to not attack her emotions because that was were her best defense was, instead, he attacked her from the outside where she was the weakest.

Damn him, Yumi really could love him. He was just biding his time until it happened.

The cold of the glass against her cheek made her feel sleepy, and Yumi for once, didn't fight.

* * *

Odd was, well, _odd_.

Yumi awoke to the noisy shuffling of baggage and slid one eye open. Much to her horror, she found herself eye to eye with a stranger, who stood dangerously close.

"Hi," he said cheerfully. Were all of Ulrich's friends this happy? Or was it all just a lie? "Wow buddy," he was addressing Ulrich now. "You've gotten so boring that the girls falls asleep on you."

"Shut up, Odd," Ulrich commented dryly. Yumi straightened up as best as possible, still groggy. She could only assume that she'd fallen asleep in the car and Ulrich had graciously carried her into the apartment.

"Don't worry," Odd said cheekily. "I can promise I'm much more entertaining than --"

"Odd," Ulrich said warningly. Odd raised his hands in surrender.

"Sorry," he said impishly. "No more hitting on your girlfriend, I promise."

Ulrich glared and Yumi twisted her mouth into disapproval. She hoped Ulrich hadn't been telling his friends that she was his girlfriend after she had blantaly refused the offer twice. "Odd, I already told you that she's _not_ my girlfriend."

Odd snickered, "We'll see how long _that'll_ last."

"You know," Yumi said, slightly annoyed. "I'm still in the room."

"Yeah, I know," Odd returned her tone. "I'm just surprised you're here and not in his bedroom."

"_Excuse me?"_

This was the second time she'd use the phrase, but this time it was not from misconception. She knew exactly what he was implying.

"Odd!"

"Sorry," Odd repeated, this time at Yumi. "It's just ... Ulrich doesn't take his girlfriends seriously, so neither do I."

Which made Yumi infinitely glad that she had refused the offer for the second time that day. Ulrich's expression was caught in between wanting to stab Odd and apologizing to Yumi.

Standing now, Odd took Yumi's hand in his. "You'll have to forgive me," he said in earnest. "I was stuck next to a three year old on the plane. If listening to Barney sing for eight hours doesn't make you feel sorry for me, remember, I'm a guy. I'm suffering the curse of a Y-chromosome."

Yumi raised an eyebrow.

"And if you're still not in the forgiving mood," Odd continued. "I must resort to drastic measures--"

"Odd, you're _not_ going to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, are you?" Ulrich asked, menacingly.

"Nope," Odd grinned. "I was thinking more of like telling Yumi here how beautiful," at this he turned to her and said, "Because you are, you know." He turned to Ulrich again, "And amazing she is. Now if _that _doesn't work, I might have to beg."

"That's not necessary," Yumi interjected quickly. "I forgive you, really."

"Great," Odd's grin widened. "Because you and are are going to have to become best friends, before say," he made a mock gesture of looking at a nonexistent watch on his wrist. "--this weekend."

How terrifying was this "dreamgirl" anyway? It seemed all of Ulrich's friends were determined to "prepare" her to fight against her. Which, in retrospect, Yumi didn't understand why they were under the impression that she would fight for him at all. If that girl wanted him so bad she could have him.

Something in Yumi's chest tightened which was a clear indicator that she was lying. She ignored it.

"I'm not worried about that girl," Yumi clarified.

"It's not her you should be worried about," Odd explained. "Throw a Gucci purse and she'll fetch it. It's Ulrich's parents you need to be prepared for."

"I'm not afraid of them," Yumi retorted, defiantly.

Odd's grin was still in place, but it was pinched in a way so familiar to Yumi that something in the back of her head whispered precaution.

"You should be."

"Enough," Ulrich said. "Yumi, I'm really sorry about this."

Yumi ignored him and spoke directly to Odd, "How bad?"

"They'll tear you to shreds," he said simply.

"Oh," Yumi said weakly and her mouth felt dry. Was Ulrich really worth all of this trouble?

"Yumi--"

Ulrich looked at her helplessly and Yumi sighed. He _was _worth the effort. "I hate you," she said to Ulrich, in response to her realization.

"Great," Odd exclaimed. "Now all we have to do is turn that hate into love by this weekend and we'll be set."

They were doomed.

* * *

Author's Note : I hope you guys enjoyed the quick/long update because it'll be a while until I'll be updating. The reason why I've been putting a lot of effort into updating quickly is because school starts next week for me and that means I'll be super busy. Now, you'll guys have to tell me -- were you surprised at what I did with Jeremie/Aelita? Was Odd's visit enlightening for you? Are you starting to catch some of Ulrich's dirty little secrets? Be sure to tell me :)


	9. Nine

There were nineteen messages on her answering machine. Yumi threw her bag on the bed unceremoniously and as she followed suit, she hit the playback button clumsily. The majority were from her mother -- she deleted those before they reached the three second mark -- and some were from university. A systematic warning to all students on winter break; class was to resume in two weeks and they weren't to forget it. Yumi made a mental note to pick up her books from the school book store, re-apply for financial aid, and do her mounting laundry before classes resumed.

If she managed to survive Ulrich's parents that was. Oh yes, and the bitch that was tagging along with them. After Aelita had thoroughly informed her of all those cute little stories of childhood nuisances which involved this girl, Yumi was starting to see why the nickname suited her. Apparently, the girl had a horrible temper, a penchant for being nosy, and a nagging talent for conceit -- without reason, Aelita had clarified.

Odd had systematically briefed her on the life long struggle to disassociate with the girl. Unfortunately, and the face Odd made was laughable, because Ulrich's parents liked her so much, or at least the pretense she put up, she was to remain in Ulrich's life until,

"Ulrich realizes he's madly in love with her and can do nothing else but marry her," Odd's voice had been solemn. The slight curve of his mouth, however, gave him away.

Ulrich, it seemed -- and Yumi wasn't sure, she never was when it was concerning Ulrich -- didn't like this girl at all. In fact, he seemed to have a sort of apathy for her, a lurking dislike that was only hindered by his natural instinct to be polite and agreeable. It was a redeeming quality, and Yumi wondered to what extent this girl had bothered him in order for him to develop such negative feelings for her.

This was all too much. Too much effort, too much concern, too much _feeling_. Fleetingly, Yumi wanted out from it all; from Ulrich and his secrets, from Odd and his banter, from Aelita and Jeremie and their all too blatant tragedy. For what? What was she winning? Where was the benefit of it all?

All of the building panic in her chest was only surmounted by the memory of Ulrich driving her home. He hadn't so much as graced her with a look, simply driven with precision. He hadn't even been in the state of mind to open the passenger door to let her out. Yumi accidentally slammed the door shut on her way out. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so accidental, but whatever feelings she was experiencing at that moment, she doubted Ulrich wanted to hear about them.

Aelita had coerced her into meeting her in the morning before planting a brief, social kiss on her cheek. The action was complemented by the sinister, scheming smile that Aelita wore as she walked away. Jeremie took her hand, shook it, and then followed Aelita. Yumi wondered if Jeremie treated everything as if it were business, and if so, what an unlikely pair he and Aelita made. Aelita seemed so full of feeling, vibrant with emotion. Perhaps they were different in private, or perhaps they were so attached that it didn't matter if the ends didn't quite match up, if there was an imperfection to it all. They loved each other and they didn't care.

Yumi found it kind of ironic that she had such excellent introspection into the lives, hearts, minds of others and yet she couldn't guess at her own. And was Ulrich like her? Was that why she couldn't see into him? The riddle drove in circles and Yumi closed her eyes in frustration. It seemed she spent the majority of her life on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what was it exactly that she did that seemed to twist her life into tangles.

It was late and she was tired, Yumi didn't bother to slip into something more comfortable. She did, however, put monumental effort into not dreaming about Ulrich.

* * *

She failed.

Ulrich actually called her in the middle of her self loathing. It was fifteen to nine, and Yumi was having trouble deciding on whether to skip out on Aelita's offer and face her wrath or give in to whatever maniacal plot she had concocted. The ringing of the phone was a sharp contrast to the silence, and after two rings, Yumi picked it up.

"Hello," she bleated out.

"...I didn't wake you up or anything," Ulrich asked slowly. "...because I can just call back later."

"Don't worry," Yumi replied systematically. Though, in truth, he had a lot to worry about. She would end up killing him if he continued to make her this way. Yumi Ishiyama did _not_ have consecutive, implicating dreams about boys. Yumi Ishiyama did _not_ fight over boys with other girls. And, Yumi decided, if she kept thinking of herself in the third person she was going to personally enroll herself in a clinic.

"I was, um, getting dressed to meet Aelita," she lied. Yumi made a motion to search for something feasible to wear and found nothing. She _really_ needed to do her laundry -- ninety percent of her clothes were dirty and all that was left in her closet was the kind of clothes you push to the back, praying you'll never be desperate enough to wear them.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"You don't have to go, you know," Ulrich said uneasily. Wait, he didn't want her to go? Now Yumi _really_ wanted to go. "Aelita can be ... imposing, you know? I can make up an excuse --"

"It's okay," Yumi interrupted. "I _want_ to go."

Ulrich's voice seemed deflated when he answered, "Well ... okay, if you _want_ to."

"I _want_ to," Yumi repeated.

"Yumi," Ulrich seemed unsure. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I--," Yumi faltered. "Why?"

"Never mind," Ulrich's voice was resolute. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," Yumi affirmed. Then she added, hesitantly, "... If there's something you have to tell me, say it."

A breath on the other end of the line heightened the anxiety of anticipation in Yumi's chest -- she held her breath. Her hand pressed the receiver to her ear, impossibly close, and the cold steel cushioned pliantly against her flesh.

"Yumi, I love you," there was no space for doubt in his words. "I _really_ love you."

Yumi exhaled slowly, carefully. "Okay," she answered back, shaking. Then, quietly, tremendously heavy with underlying intent, "Thank you."

She hung up.

* * *

Aelita waved her over from where she stood, an established fashionista with a Gucci purse dangling from one arm, pale dress fastened to her body. It was a Valentino classic, she later informed her, a present from Jeremie when she'd graduated. Her smile was in place, and the slightest hint of blush glimmered when she tilted her face to the sunlight. They settled for an outdoor cafe, Yumi ordered coffee and Aelita politely declined a replica of her order in favor for some tea.

"Aren't you cold," Yumi shivered. It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been in the past weeks, but for someone who wore nothing but a flimsy jacket over a dress it was nearly impossible not to catch hypothermia. "I'm freezing."

"A little," Aelita admitted. "But I like the smell of the cold air, and I haven't been around snow in the longest. Jeremie and I are always traveling, and whenever it gets cold in Europe we just head someplace warm. He doesn't like the cold very much."

"Hmm," Yumi said as she sipped her coffee.

"So, have you made a decision?"

Yumi raised her eyes, "About what?"

"About Ulrich, of course," Aelita made a motion as to say that she was being silly for not knowing. "Why else do you think I called you here? To talk about your wardrobe? Though, now that I think about it, maybe we should go sh--"

"Don't even think about it," Yumi threatened. "I hate shopping -- no, don't look at me like that -- I do."

"Wow," Aelita laughed. "You and Ulrich _do_ belong together. He hates shopping too."

"Well," Yumi replied humorlessly, because belonging with Ulrich made her heart ache. He made her heart ache. "If he _did_ like shopping, I think I'd be worried."

"A sense of humor, good," Aelita smiled. "I don't know if you're aware, but, you've officially passed the best friend approval preliminaries. Of course, if you so much as hurt Ulrich in any shape or form, Odd will have Kiwi go after you."

"I'm frightened, really," Yumi's voice was deliberately deadpan. "But there's no reason for you -- or Odd -- to worry about me hurting Ulrich. I'm not going to be with him. That way, there will be no chance of me hurting him."

"Hmm," Aelita sipped her tea indulgently. "Is it because you don't want to hurt Ulrich or because you don't want Ulrich to hurt you?"

Yumi stood abruptly, "Listen, if there's nothing else you need to say to me I'll just go."

"Yumi," Aelita's tone was less sweet, a little bitter, and very hard. "Don't make me regret admiring you."

Yumi stared at Aelita in disbelief.

"Yes," Aelita continued. "I've heard a lot of things about you and now I've confirmed the majority of them. I admire you, Yumi. I admire your strength and your determination -- you're a good friend and loyal." Aelita stood. "... but, like all of us, you have your flaws. You have trust issues Yumi -- no, don't look at _me_ that way, I majored in psychology -- and it may not be any of my business, but ..." She paused, thoughtfully. Yumi thought she might break into pieces. "You're both so sick for each other. I refuse to let two perfectly good people go to waste because one of them is too scared to try and the other too scared to push."

"Aelita--"

"It doesn't have to be now," Aelita interrupted quickly. "Just ... be fair to him, Yumi. Let him know that he's not alone in this. It's not fair for you to hold out on him this way. I know what it feels like to love someone and not know whether it's all a waste."

"Jeremie?"

Aelita looked away momentarily, when she turned back to Yumi, her face was different. It was twisted into an array of emotion, each so painfully clear that Yumi wondered what exactly had happened between Jeremie and Aelita.

"Jeremie and I --," she paused. "It's a very long story. I'm not your therapist Yumi, I have no obligation to make cute little stories so you feel as if you can open up to me. I want to be your friend because I think we'd be great friends, but, it's only fair if you try."

Yumi was suddenly aware that this was one of those moments in life that you never got back, one of those fleeting opportunities that were so rare. All of this time, fighting her parents, fighting William, all of it and for what? Yumi didn't want much, which was something her parents never understood. She didn't want luxury or some great adventure. Yumi wanted life, she wanted friends, she wanted happiness, she wanted --

"Ulrich," her voice sounded cracked. "Does he ... does he know you're--"

"No," Aelita cut her off sharply. "Ulrich has no idea I'm talking to you about this. He's scared of losing you, because, well like the rest of us, Ulrich has made some mistakes. He's done some stuff he's not exactly proud of, and as it is, he's not exactly standing on stable ground. But that's not my business to tell you. He'll tell you when the time is right."

"Does it have anything to do with his room?"

Aelita actually laughed. "His room? Not really. Unless ... Well, if he's taking it _that_ far then I guess he loves you more than I realized."

Someone yelled in the distance. Yumi's heart thundered in her chest, she tried not to cry but the tears were already brimming in her eyes. All all her repressed emotion was leaking out, bit by bit.

"I'm sorry," Yumi managed. "I didn't mean to --"

"Cry," Aelita interjected. "None of us do, I'm sure. Now, it's getting late and I'm sure that Jeremie is probably ready to report me missing ... Hey, it's alright," she fished out a satin handkerchief from her purse and handed it to Yumi. "I promise you that ... well, they told us promising things is bad, but you're not my client so whatever. I promise you that things will work out. So long as you try."

"Now," Aelita smile, her face brightening considerably. "You're going to hate me for this, but, I _am_ dragging you to the mall. No self respecting friend of mine is going to go out in public wearing ... what is that?" She rambled off a few designer brands Yumi didn't recognize.

Yumi wondered if this is what happiness felt like, and for the first time in her life she began to realize the damage that her father had done to her, the damage that she had done to herself.

"...and shoes, you have to see the shoes. They have this music store right next to it, so we can look at the ..."

Yumi wasn't paying attention to Aelita, or the cars blurring in front of her into a haze of gray. The streetlights twinkled distinctively, red, yellow, green -- again, again, and again. People talked, people laughed, children ran and adults walked.

For the first time in a long time, Yumi felt alive.

* * *

Probably one of, if not the most, important chapter in the entire story. Sorry for the delay, school has been really hectic. I revealed a little about Ulrich's "secret", and Yumi is finally undergoing a metamorphosis. Those who were expecting the dreamgirl/Ulrich's parents this chapter will have to wait -- but they will come, I promise. Anything in particular you liked about this chapter? Any lines you liked? I love feedback, and I love when people point out things to me -- it makes me feel as if every single word I write counts. Thank you for reading.


	10. Ten

Since I wrote it in an awkward way, I should forewarn you. This chapter is backwards. That means that beginning scene is actually the last scene. You can read it normally, and watch the story unfold backwards, or you can read it from the bottom up if you prefer. Either way, enjoy.

* * *

She had been here before. This sort of high voltage emotion that transformed everything and everyone in the space of heartbeats; _don't you remember this?_ Yumi thought she did, that she should, but couldn't quite place it. The distraction of Ulrich standing in front of her, arms outstretched, guarding her, was burned into her eyes. Idly, her hands ran over her dress, soaked, red fabric that smelled of wine and sugar. It wasn't difficult, except it was, and Yumi wondered what Ulrich was protecting her from, when she had her own worst enemy settled into her ribcage, strained underneath flesh and through vein.

Garbled insults and high, high voices. That girl, from across the room, was screaming and demanding, throwing around words that were sour to the ears, words she had no business saying. And still, Ulrich stood in front of her, and though she couldn't see his face, Yumi might imagine the righteous lines carved deep into his face. He was implacable. Odd stood behind Aelita, Jeremie awkwardly and haphazardly at her side.

"Enough," Ulrich hissed. The girl ruminated for a moment, fingers weaving through black hair. Her tinted lips pressed into a line, and all her hauteur bloomed. "Ulrich, dear," she began in that condescending voice of hers. It almost had a didactic feeling to it, but more patronizing than anything else. Annoying enough, it mirrored William's to an extent. "You don't mean this, do you? That _nobody_ over _me_? Really, you never were one for jokes, but this has to be one."

Aelita was wrong. She _was_ beautiful, if in a mismatched way. Her facial features were neatly arranged; dark eyes, dark hair, pale skin and pink, thin lips. There wasn't symmetry involved, but an abstract concept that made it impossible to classify her as unattractive.

"Elisabeth," every syllable sounded like a curse. "How lovely to see you again." Jeremie's voice was ice. Odd chimed in, "Though not seeing you again would have been much better."

"Be quiet," she -- Elisabeth, snarled. Her face twisted into a very ugly expression and Yumi though to retract her preconception of potential prettiness. But no, as she smoothed face out the spark of aesthetic ingenuity reappeared. It was very much like a mask and Ulrich looked as if he wanted to tear it off.

"I won't let you do this to me," Elisabeth went on.

"It's already been done," Aelita interjected cheerfully. "Face it, Sissi _dear_, you might as well go back into whatever hole you crawled out of." There was a viciousness in her voice that Yumi was startled to hear.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you, _orphan_," Sissi matched Aelita's tone. "I'm here to stay."

Ulrich's voice was unrecognizable, almost monstrous, and decidedly crude. The sound was so inherently wrong that Yumi jerked at it, her thoughts no longer in disarray as a result of the annoying stage like quality of the scenario. Ulrich spoke and Yumi shivered.

"Wrong answer."

* * *

Yumi did not notice the girl's entrance, mainly because she was being entertained by a seeing dog of one of the elderly gentlemen. Whether this was the dog that Aelita had spoken about before, Yumi didn't know, but she couldn't pinpoint was Aelita was complaining about. The dog was much more interesting that the people that were there.

"Yumi Ishiyama," the tone was categorized by authority. Yumi looked up, disdain written on her face.

The time lapse between the instance that she met the girls cold, black eyes and when the girl flung the champagne glass in her direction, successfully depositing all of its contents on Yumi's dress, was mercifully brief. And that was when Yumi knew she was face to face with the "dreamgirl."

It also occurred to her that Ulrich was going to pay for this.

* * *

The entrance was ridiculously dramatic.

Aelita had persuaded (see: forced), Yumi into arriving early to the so-called reunion. The reunion turned out to be a party of a hundred odd socialites who were especially interested in knowing who was the strange, unknown Asian girl with the oh-so coveted Aelita Stones. Apparently not only was Aelita was a model, she also handled a company that mass produced computers for small businesses.

"A regular genius," a woman had exclaimed as Aelita passed her by, smile conspicuously dazzling.

Yumi felt excruciatingly out of place.

When she thought it couldn't get worse, she spied Ulrich in the corner, drinking something that was apt to be alcoholic. He nearly choked when he saw her, settling for launching into a hysterics of coughing. Though, and Yumi found this to be the highlight of her day thus far, his reaction was far more pleasing when Jeremie and Odd entered the room.

Aelita promptly hid behind Yumi. Which, considering how short and small Yumi was, resulted a terrible decision.

"Princess," Odd greeted her and Yumi analyzed the pains he took to kiss her hand with scrutiny. She wasn't the only one -- Jeremie was glaring holes into them both. He gave Aelita a curt greeting, and Yumi wondered what exactly she had missed.

There was a certain gravity, a destructive spark between Aelita, Jeremie, and Odd. It occurred to Yumi that she had never seen the trio in the same room. This would certainly explain why. If Jeremie didn't claw out Odd's eyes, Odd would seize the opportunity and politely return the favor.

The conclusion was obvious, and yet, Yumi couldn't bring herself to believe it.

Realizing that her plan had failed, Aelita meekly made her way in front of Yumi. "Odd," she flashed a very small smile at Odd who returned it with a brilliant one of his own. Aelita then turned to Jeremie, but this particular smile was pinched, "Jeremie."

Wisely, Ulrich took her by the arm and leaned in. His breath smelled of alcohol as she suspected, but he was obviously not intoxicated. "Would you like to dance?"

"I don't think this is a good time," Yumi whispered as she watched Aelita pointedly direct her gave to the floor.

"Trust me," Ulrich began as he pulled her closer to him. "This is an _excellent _time."

"And why is that," Yumi asked, feeling out of context.

"Because," Ulrich said, "I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire."

* * *

"Yumi, you can't _abandon_ me in this time of need! I _refuse_ to mingle with the old people again. I swear, if I have to hear _one more _conversation about teeth, I'll grab on to a curtain and escape through the window."

"In one of those," Yumi questioned as she pointed to a highly suspicious pair of shoes. They were, as Aelita later informed her, her certified hooker heels. Yumi didn't ask. "I highly doubt you'll be able to walk, much less climb, anything."

"Jeremie will be busy with boring, stiff representatives and --"

"-- don't forget the occasional gold digger," Yumi interjected with mock cheer.

Aelita ignored her commentary, "-- last time the only company I had was the seeing dog of one of the men there."

"I'm sure it was a very nice dog," Yumi replied as she eyed the numerous bags on the floor. They were white paper, decorated with abstract shapes and sleek black lettering. "You can bring Kiwi along, right? Odd can come, too."

"Odd can't come," Aelita's mouth twitched slightly. Yumi couldn't tell if it was because of annoyance or something altogether. "He hates these sort of parties."

"I thought you said it was a small gathering," Yumi looked at Aelita accusingly.

"Um," Aelita hedged. "About that..."

* * *

Soft, slightly moist fingertips across the back, others pressing into skin; a languid, temperamental smile, breath catching by the ear. "See," he asks as he guides her right to left. "Not so hard, is it?"

"No," she manages, holding on to holding her breath. "I just don't understand why you're teaching me to dance. Ulrich, no one waltzes anymore."

Charming smile, and Ulrich spins her for a bit, "Aelita invited me to a party and I'm coercing you into coming along." His words seem awkward because it certainly doesn't feel like coercion. It feels a bit like happiness.

"I don't want to go," Yumi turns her head away as she feels her shoe pressing on his feet. "I'm not --"

"You _are_," Ulrich interrupts as he gingerly pulls her closer. "-- a pessimist. I'm an optimist --"

"Ulrich, I'm really _not_--"

"Well," and so close that Yumi trembles. "_I believe in you_."

* * *

Aelita hadn't been satisfied with buying eight pair of shoes, she simply _had_ to buy Yumi a pair, "Or _two_," Aelita had said as she pulled Yumi into the store. Yumi tried to dig her heels in, but her shoes squeaked and slid across the floor. "Look at these, aren't they _divine_? Yumi, you _have_ to try them out." Insert puppy dog look here.

Which was the gist of the rest of her afternoon. After suffering for hours, Aelita took pity on her and hailed a cab. It had taken two consecutive cabs to fit in all of Aelita's bags; the cab drivers did not complain, and when Yumi saw exactly how much Aelita paid them for their efforts, she understood why.

* * *

_Don't look away_, Aelita's hands were smooth and firm, heavy weight on her shoulders. _I want you to see what he sees._

The mirror was traitorous; her mouth was down turned in a frown, her eyes bright from un-shed tears. Her flesh was deceptively pale beneath fluorescent light, utterly outdone by dark, rebellious hair. Her lips were unraveling into a grimace, and annoyed with herself, Yumi turned away from the mirror.

"I should be doing laundry," she muttered as she wiggled out of Aelita's grip. Persistent and oh so defiantly, Aelita hung on, a pressing smile on her lips. They were so different; Aelita's aristocratic nose complemented her lips, and her hair and long, loose limbs copied the example to the point of imitation. Here, Yumi was out of water, out of atmosphere. She felt like going home and curling into the corner of the couch, to watch the bright, exaggerated screen of the television lull her to sleep.

Yumi calculated the chances of them going into another store. The chances were depressingly high.

A hour later --

"Don't you think I've thought this over," a quick, irrelevant quirk to the lips. "A thousand times over. There is no other way -- I'm going to have to sacrifice myself."

Aelita's face fell as she continued her monologue. "I mean," she paused. A heavy sigh, lower lip caught by teeth, eyebrows drawn in misery. "I _guess_ the manolo blahniks will have to do."

* * *

Aelita primly knocked on Yumi's door at approximately eight in the morning, dressed and suited in clothes that were meant to be seen and not worn. Sunglasses clipped in one hand, she extended her arms and greeted Yumi with the same adulation as before, only somewhat more business like. Which, more or less, was what she had come for -- business. She nearly broke down the door and said,

"You and I have appointments at the salon, then we go to pick out dresses, and then --"

Yumi tried to imagine a worse fate and failed. There simply had to be a way for her to get out of this. _Think_, Yumi urged herself. Sadly, nothing to came to mind. Apparently, her college education was worthless.

A vague, tickling feeling beat in the back of her head. Yumi thought for a moment that something bad was going to happen. Then, she chalked it up to silliness on her part and closed the door behind her.

* * *

What did you think? How was Sissi's entrance for you? Tell me :)


	11. Eleven

Elisabeth looked at Ulrich as if something incredibly silly had slipped out of his mouth. She accentuated this thought with a small, clipped smile and a slight movement of her eyes. "Darling," an endearment devoid of affection. "I don't know what's happened in the time we've been apart, but you _can't_ tell me --"

"Elisabeth _darling_," Odd returned the endearment and Ulrich simmered in the background. Odd was obviously saving him from having a slight of anger. "Why don't I escort you out, huh? That, or I can have security do it for me."

"Stop."

Yumi's voice thundered through the hall, a contrast to the previous voices. Ulrich turned momentarily -- and his expression! Yumi could have kissed him for it --, looked at her, confused. "Yumi," and the metamorphosis of his tone was startling. Elisabeth's smile tightened at the corners. "Please don't --"

"I'm tired of this," Yumi told him, unwavering. Something in her chest fell a little. She directed her gaze to Elisabeth. "Look," her voice was no none sense. "I don't know -- or care -- who you are. I'm not _with_ him. You can have him," that something came perilously close to breaking. "I won't stand in your way."

Yumi swallowed whatever feelings were rising up her throat, and they _burned_, but she was good at pretending nothing was wrong. She had her father to thank for that. "Aelita, thank you," formal, polite, Yumi couldn't even look at her as she walked away. Much less Ulrich -- the very thought of it made her want to throw up.

There was a shivering in her veins, a hotness in the back of her eyelids. Her mouth felt dry and full, and Yumi desperately wanted to leave, to cry, to stay. Coldplay in the background as she walked away,

_I'll be waiting in line, just to see if you care._

A touch of irony, and Yumi felt her knees wobble a bit. She blamed the shoes and then blamed her inability to lie, especially to herself. The streets in Manhattan were as cold as she felt, and the cars and endless lights blurred in her vision. It wasn't until Yumi raised her hand to hail a cab that she realized she couldn't see and that she was crying.

Yumi hated herself for this moment, hated Ulrich for dragging her into this world, hated Aelita for seeing right through her, hated Odd for defending her, hated Jeremie for being everything -- cold, calculated, controlled -- that she had failed to be.

A cab stopped. The outlandish, gaudy yellow was ridiculously in the darkness. Red taillights guided Yumi closer. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. Opening the door with her moist hand, trembling, Yumi caught sight of the cab driver who tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.

Ulrich ruined her perfect exit in one smooth move.

Yumi hadn't realized that she wasn't going into the cab, but out, until it was too late and she was pressed against a heartbeat. Arms wrapped around her and fabric suffocated her. "Go away," Yumi croaked.

"I can't," Ulrich laughed mirthlessly. "Aelita threatened to kill me if I didn't come back with you."

"It's okay," Yumi tried to step back but his grip was too strong. "You can stop trying now, I'm leaving. It's okay -- thank you." She wasn't sure what she was saying. Her mouth was opening on its own accord, years and years of social niceties slipping through her lips.

"Miss," the cab driver called. "Are you gonna get in or not?"

"Yes--"

"No," Ulrich slammed the door and held her captive with the other. The cab didn't hesitate in driving away. Realizing that her efforts in struggling out of his arms were futile, Yumi kicked him in the knee.

"Is this the kind of treatment I get for stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life?" He finally let her go, and wincing, bent his knee experimentally.

"How is getting the last cab for the night the biggest mistake of my life?" The stupidity of her excuse rattled Yumi. She trained her expression and waited for his reply.

"I thought you weren't scared of her," Ulrich protested, referring to Elisabeth.

Yumi scowled, "Is that the reason you think I'm leaving?"

"I can't think of anything else," Ulrich retorted. "In my defense, I'm slightly drunk."

Yumi rolled her eyes, tears forgotten. The incompetence of men always did level her. "Why can't you be a good drunk and pass out?"

"Yumi --"

"Why can't you just leave me alone," Yumi interrupted. Even now, in her slight breakdown, he was intruding in her life.

"Because I love you," Ulrich replied. "I thought we already had this conversation."

He was annoyingly smart for a guy, Yumi reasoned. Exasperated, and cold, Yumi said finally, "What do I have to do for you to leave me alone?"

"Tell me you have no feelings for me at all."

"Okay," Yumi replied without pause. This was relatively easy. After all, she really had no feelings for him, and Ulrich was very annoying when she thought about it. She looked at Ulrich's face and her words stalled in her throat.

"Well," Ulrich prompted.

Yumi diverted her gaze to the pavement and said in rapid succession, "I have no feelings for you at all."

There was actual laughter in Ulrich's voice. "I'm sure the sidewalk is very disappointed. Now," he titled her chin with his fingers. "Tell _me_."

"I _am_ telling you," Yumi protested. She looked him directly in the eyes. "I don't like you."

"Really," Ulrich said and his voice dropped an octave. There was still laughter in his eyes.

This was not how it was supposed to go! "Um," Yumi struggled with words. "Yes, really, Ulrich --"

He was so close that they shared the same breath. "Don't even think about kissing me," Yumi forewarned him.

"Really," Ulrich echoed. He pressed his lips to her cheek, lingered there, and Yumi hissed at the sensation. Her cheek was slightly moist as he pulled away and Yumi felt her blood singe and spark. His face turned, and Yumi knew exactly what he was aiming for. Automatically she made to shirk away but Ulrich held her in place. "Did you really think I was just going to let you walk away?"

"I--," Yumi's mind went blank. His lips found the corner of her mouth and against her will, Yumi opened her mouth slightly. This is not happening, Yumi screamed in her mind. Stop him, stop him, stop him; this is about his leaving, he can't, you can't let him -- oh.

The first thing that Yumi registered was pressure. Pressure on her spine, pushing her into him, pressure of his forefinger behind the hollow of her ear, pressure of his thumb into her jawline. Impossible to ignore was the pressure to her lips, but this pressure had an air like quality to it, cool and intoxicating. Yumi's bones felt as if they were breaking, and she had nothing to hold her up except Ulrich, who she hated very much at this moment.

Next, was movement. Yumi's eyes obediently slid close, and she thought to protest except it was very hard to form a coherent thought at the moment, much less struggle. Her body was betraying her; she leaned in, so much closer than she anticipated she could be, and a sound she couldn't recognize sounded in the back of her throat.

It translated into a whimper, and Ulrich kissed her languidly, catching her lips and pulling at them, letting them go only to capture them again.

Dreams had nothing on reality.

"Bravo."

Startled, Yumi turned to the darkness. Incredulously, she called out, "William?"

He emerged from the darkness like a demon, dark features illuminated by sheer moonlight.

"So you couldn't be with me but you could be with him?"

He snickered as he approached. Yumi felt herself tense, and Ulrich grabbed onto her arm. It was meant as a reassurance but all it was doing was cutting off her circulation. "William, I thought I made it clear that we're over."

"Don't flatter yourself babe," arrogance dripped from his every word. "I'm not here because of you. I never told you, did I? I am the son of one of the most prominent families in the world. Just ask Ulrich."

Ulrich's face twisted into a severe expression. "William, don't --"

"Oh," William's face was filled with triumph and mockery. "You haven't told her, have you?

"William --"

William's smile didn't touch his eyes. "Yumi," his eyes swept over her form appreciatively. "Allow me to unmask your boyfriend for you."

* * *

short chapter, but very climatic -- what do you guys think? How was the kiss? How exactly does William know Ulrich? Feedback is love :)


	12. Twelve

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is _wrong_. Those words rose, twisted and fell, and transformed into a prayer, a secret wish. If she had ever wanted to believe in someone so desperately, Yumi couldn't remember. She wanted to believe that the words that were coming out of William's mouth would change nothing, that they would simply breach her ears and retract without a fuss. More than that, more than anything, Yumi wanted to believe that at the end of this, Ulrich would still be good, and right, and not what every single man in her life had turned out to be.

This was impossible.

This hope was hopeless. Why was she even trying? What was the point of it all?

Optimism, optimism was good; Yumi just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Well, look who decided to come," Odd swam into her line of vision, moving like a marionette. A pinpoint precise smile was at his lips, humorless, and his attention was on William. He didn't even acknowledge Ulrich. "The last time I saw you, your nose was broken. Care for an encore?"

"Don't be stupid," Aelita appeared next, Jeremie following at a relative distance. Annoyance was the least of the expression on her face; she was furious. Her focus shifted from Odd to William and something flickered across her face. Too quick to categorize, and Yumi felt lost, and outsider exposed to an inside joke. "Dunbar," the lack of intimacy didn't fall on deaf ears. "Crashing parties was always your style, wasn't it? Leave, or I can have security escort you. Either way," a cracked smile. "I'll be much happier."

"Aelita," Jeremie placed his hand on her ivory shoulder. "Don't get overemotional, it isn't good for you."

"Einstein has a point," Odd agreed. "Stay out of this, princess."

"You're obviously not wanted here," Ulrich spoke up, cool and controlled. "Why don't you just leave and spare us a scene?"

"That's funny," the sarcasm in William's voice was unmistakable. "The last time I checked, you were the one causing scenes, Stern. You were the quite the drunk, weren't you? The last I heard of you was that you were sent to a hospital for --"

"William, stop," Aelita pleaded. The change in tone was so radical that Yumi tensed. Her attention, however, was primarily on Ulrich. "This isn't --"

"It was a mistake," Ulrich interrupted. "That was a long time ago."

"Holding grudges is unadvisable," Jeremie intoned. "Don't tell me you've come all this way to expose, and I use that term liberally, Ulrich, for something that occurred well over two years ago. You're being ridiculous, Dunbar. I suggest you leave the premises or --"

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?"

All eyes turned to Yumi. There seemed to be a consensus as whether to considering her request or not. Finally, Ulrich spoke up,

"Yumi, we should go inside," his voice was devoid of any emotion.

Yumi put her foot down, literally. "Don't even think about it, I'm not moving from here until someone gives me an explanation."

"Gladly," William interjected. "You see, Ulrich is --"

"Yumi," Ulrich interrupted. "If anyone should be giving you an explanation, it should be me, but not here," he managed a small, sad smile. "You don't deserve to know like this."

By this point, optimism was nearly impossible.

"You didn't ... kill someone, did you?"

"What? No, I didn't kill anyone," Ulrich had the gall to smile at her. "Its nice to know to you think so highly of me."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Yumi hissed. "That speaks volumes of how highly I think of you."

"Right," a soft, tender smile touched Ulrich's features. Yumi had never seen Ulrich so kind. It terrorized her. "I'll tell you everything you want to know, but not here. Come with me -- trust me."

Fight or flight. Old scabs were torn anew, wounds bleeding once again. Was it okay to feel this way? Yumi couldn't tell, didn't know. Maybe if she got her hands on some statistics, some facts -- maybe she could rationalize this. Nothing was available to her fingertips, nothing except the way Ulrich was looking at her and it was devastating.

_Now, now, Yumi don't look at me that way --_

_Just a girl, remember that, and someday like your mother --_

_Hey! Why does he get to go out?_

_Because he's your brother, Yumi, and men always go out._

_Never too far, never too fast, just like this father?_

_I love you, Yumi._

_"I'm a ... an aspiring songwriter."_

Thoughts waged war in Yumi's head; Ulrich, why? Why such deception? Why does everyone have to protect me from the truth? I'm not that breakable, I promise.

_"Wait for me."_

_Wait for me._

_Wait --_

Yumi shook her head, shook those visions out of her eyes, a vague feeling filling her chest, filling her. It occurred to her that she was empty. All of that pain, disillusionment, sarcasm -- they all failed to fill her up. Yumi ached for something solid, something tangible, something whole and wonderful and not dark like her memories. Slowly, gaining momentum, a spark had started in her hallowed chest. Yumi couldn't pinpoint when or from what, but it was shining, calling, fighting -- fighting for her, for Ulrich, for them. It was the way he handed her coffee, the way his fingers flickered through pages, the way he smiled with irrefutable enthusiasm, the way those forty three muscles never failed her. It was those conversations through the door, the warmth of his arms, the selflessness of his intentions.

And finally ... realization, triumph.

"I'm waiting."

Ulrich paused, confused, "What?"

Yumi shook her head, shook those visions out of her eyes, a vague feeling filling her chest, filling her. She couldn't understand it, didn't even try to -- Ulrich was waiting and she was ... she was tired of wasting time.

When Ulrich outstretched his hand, Yumi didn't hesitate to take it.

"Come on," Ulrich squeezed her fingers in reassurance. "We have a lot to talk."

"Isn't this sweet?" Yumi had nearly forgotten about William, but his voice filtered through her epiphany with unpleasant acuity. It was impossible to ignore. "I thought you were smarter than this, babe. Don't tell me you think you're going to ride off into the sunset, now? You don't even know who he is, what he's done --"

"Shut up, William," Aelita's voice was shrill. "Shut up or I will _make you_."

"Hush," Odd whispered as he mussed Aelita's hair, tension etched on his face. He wasn't fooling anyone with the lighthearted gesture. "How about you and Prince Charming go inside and handle the plague, hmm?"

Aelita looked at Odd, and something intangible flickered between them, an agreement, "Are you talking about Elisabeth?"

"Eh, Elisabeth ... the black plague, the cancer that just keeps coming back, you get it."

Aelita seemed placated as she joined Jeremie, who, interestingly enough, maintained his distance. Odd cracked his knuckles, a perverse grin carved into his face. For a moment, Yumi thought she ought to be frightened, but with Ulrich beside her it was almost impossible to feel anything but exhilaration and something else she couldn't name.

"As for you, old buddy," Odd took of his jacket and rolled back his sleeves. "We still have unfinished business, huh?"

Ulrich chose that moment to haul Yumi by the arm, effectively silencing the feud between Odd and William. Yumi did, however, manage to hear Aelita holler one last request at Odd,

"Odd Della Robia, if you get blood on that shirt I will --"

"Yeah, yeah," Odd yelled back, almost playfully. "I'll be careful, _mom_."

Aelita might have made a retort but it was lost, swallowed up by the darkness and the pounding in Yumi's ears, heart.

* * *

Ulrich behaved as if he were taking her somewhere without any extraordinary intent. He opened the passenger door, saw her in, buckled her seatbelt with annoying care, and then proceeded to the other side of the car.

The boxes in the back of Ulrich's car were never more comforting. They were almost a symbol of how far they had come in spite of the brevity of all; how far she still had to go. The difference between then and now was that Yumi knew where she was going and she was unafraid. Well, that was a complete lie, but, she was willing to face those fears despite the pain they might bring her. She had endured enough pain to know her limits, and Ulrich, thus far, was safely within those bounds.

Yumi prayed he wouldn't overstep them.

"Do you want go somewhere?" Ulrich seemed anxious now, agitated. His fingers tapped on the steering will, almost thoughtfully, and his eyes squinted through the darkness of the car, hoping to catch some expression. "... or, would you like the interrogation to begin here?"

He meant it as a joke, Yumi knew, but the cracked quality of his voice at the end of the sentence betrayed him in its totality. He had done something bad, something really bad.

"Ulrich," Yumi's voice was deafening in the silence. "... How bad is it?"

"There's not a day I don't think about it," Ulrich replied, solemnly. Oh God, Yumi thought to herself, frantic. He really _was_ part of the mafia! "But I've changed Yumi, I swear to you."

"How do you know William, and what was he talking about you in a hospital? You being ... drunk, and causing scenes?"

Ulrich ran his fingers through his hair.

"You know what they say," a nervous, strangled laugh. "The families that pay together stay together. William and I come from very affluent families, I guess you can say. There's this school in France called Kadic, it's a boarding school of sorts where all the children of people who can't bother with them and can afford to send them away, go to. William came in second to last year."

"I hated Kadic, Yumi. I didn't like any of the people there, I didn't have any friends. All I had was soccer, and even that was worthless. My teammates hated me, I hated them too. William came in with a similar view of the world; he hated everything, hated that his parents didn't care enough about him to put up with him, hated how shallow his entire life was. We agreed on so many things that we became friends. This was before Odd, by the way -- Odd was the reason William and I stopped being friends and eventually turned into ... well, what we are now."

"Anyway, William and I decided to take revenge on the world by doing everything our parents had warned us about. I knew that my parents valued their reputation above all, so I set out to trash it. It was terrible, Yumi. I was sixteen and I was going to underground parties, drinking, disappearing, staggering through the halls like a drunkard. I," this seemed the part he was most ashamed of. "-- I was with a lot of girls Yumi. I took advantage of them, well no, it was mutual I guess. They wanted my money and I wanted some fun. I hate the person I was then, but back then it was euphoria to me, nirvana. It was like letting go of all the feelings I couldn't express; it was like telling my father off, like talking back to my mother. It was everything and I couldn't stop."

"All good things must come to an end, right?" Yumi listened mutely. "In the last month of that year, Odd came to Kadic. Jeremie and Aelita were attending Kadic too, but in a different division, for the gifted -- they were, are brilliant, y'know? That's why I'd never met them. Odd, I guess, was like the link. He introduced me to Jeremie and Aelita ..., but, I'm getting ahead of myself. I was really trashed after this one party; I ended up in the hallway of the gifted division. Odd was on his way to visit Aelita and he saw me and dragged me into her room. They didn't care that they would get in trouble; they sort of held me captive in there until I got sober. I say held me captive because that's what it was; I'll never forget the things I said to them at first, God I was an asshole..."

"Anyway," Ulrich repeated. "Odd knocked some sense into me -- literally. Aelita spoon fed me the worst soup I have had to this date, and she called it punishment for my 'wickedness'. I think she enjoyed it though, she's always been a bit of a sadist if you ask me ..."

"I went back to my dorm a few days later; William asked me where I had been (we were roommates), and I told him. I thought he would be happy that I was finally getting some common sense, but instead, he got really angry. He told me that I didn't believe in the cause anymore, whatever that meant. I think he felt betrayed, like the one person that understood him was betraying him. I still feel rotten about that..."

"We couldn't stay friends, naturally. I got the school to let me room with Odd, and William and I avoided each other as much as we could. Odd joined the soccer team, Aelita became our personal cheerleader, Jeremie stayed up really late calculating statistics and provided us with warm chocolate every morning. It wasn't perfect, but, it was as close to perfection as I had ever come."

"I think I realized I wanted to be a writer when Aelita was quoting poetry -- Neruda, I think -- over lunch one day. Odd was always making stupid dance videos, so one day I borrowed his guitar and tried it out. I wasn't half bad, and before long writing and playing became the replacement for drinking and partying. I loved it, I even auditioned for the Sub Digitals once ... but that's another story."

"There was this big soccer match one day and my parents, namely my father, decided to come. I was under a lot of pressure; the last time I saw my parents was when they decided to drop me in -- then hell -- Kadic. It meant a lot to me to play well."

There was an unexpected pause, but Yumi didn't dare interrupt, she didn't even dare breathe.

"I played well -- so well in fact that my father started talking to me about going pro and scholarships and how his friends could set it all up for me. I did that day what I had never done before, I told my dad what I wanted, I told him that I wanted to be a singer and a songwriter."

"He didn't believe it, he thought I was joking. Then, well, then he disowned me."

Yumi inhaled sharply, it sounded like a hiss.

"Tuition at Kadic isn't cheap, Yumi," Ulrich sounded slightly resentful. "I had no way to pay for it. Aelita and Jeremie stepped in and paid for it without so much as denting their savings account. I didn't want them to, but, you know how _persuasive_ Aelita can be."

"We graduated from Kadic, and for a month or two, I played in a few clubs and tried to decide if all I had lost -- my family -- had been worth it. A producer from MTV heard me one night. He was in charge of the You Ought To Know tour in France and he liked my sound. I graduated, packed up, and moved to New York."

"Aelita didn't want me to leave, but eventually she realized that she wasn't my mother and she couldn't do much about it. She did, however, provide me with the apartment I live in now and most of the things I own. It's not free, though. She makes me pay for it every time she drags me to one of her horrible parties..."

"I met you a couple of months later -- and yes, I lied. I played the foreign kid card to talk to you, I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of another way that wouldn't end up with you biting my head off. The rest you know -- Jeremie, Aelita, and Odd came down to visit. My parents spontaneous decision to check up on me was due to the fact that my mom heard one of my songs on the radio and decided to see if I was alive," a bit of bitterness there. "That's why I wanted you around; I wanted to show them that I had done well on my own, that I was happy without them, and that I had found someone who appreciated me for what I was, not for my last name, and not for my -- nonexistent -- social standing."

"Yumi, I love you. I never deceived you or manipulated you into believing that for any other reason than because it was the truth. I know I lied about being an aspiring songwriter, but it was only a half lie, and anyway, I just wanted to know if you wanted me for me or for my fame. I know I should have told you who I was, but I -- every time I'm around you I turn into an idiot. I don't know what to say or what to do. The person who I am now is relatively new, I don't really know how to _be_, I guess."

"I guess Aelita felt she needed to come to my rescue, that was the original reason for her visit, you know. I guessed she figured out how obsessed by you I am and decided to help me not screw up things. I tend to screw up things a lot..."

"So, Yumi," he was giving her his winning smile, though it was frayed at the edges. He took up her hands which were trembling. "Will you forgive me for ... everything?" A hopeful smile overtook his charming one, an earnest expression of how he felt. Yumi had no doubts about her answer.

"No."

My longest chapter to date : 3,061 words. Feedback on this would make me insanely happy, because I fabricated a lot to get this chapter across -- I really worked hard on it. Do you love it, hate it, are coming after me as part of an angry mob? Review and tell me :)


	13. Thirteen

"No?"

"No." Yumi repeated solemnly.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me _why_--"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"And you wouldn't consider, maybe --"

"No."

"Oh."

A pause, and then Ulrich spoke again;

"I've just basically told you my life story--"

"It was very interesting, I assure you." Yumi offered.

"--And confessed my undying love to you --"

"You've done that before," Yumi pointed out.

"Yes, but -- was it because I didn't get down on one knee?"

"... What?"

"It _was_ because I didn't get down on one knee! Honestly, Yumi, I didn't know you wanted me to --"

"I _didn't_."

"Well, then, I don't know what to say. I guess you just don't love me, then."

"I never said that," Yumi argued.

Ulrich's frown lifted, "So you _do_ love me!"

"I never said that, either."

"You know, you're taking this very well -- you were just in hysterics, if I remember correctly."

"Well, I thought you were a fugitive who had a secret double life as a pimp, but --"

"You _what_?"

"Well -- yeah. You weren't exactly very specific about what you were hiding from me."

"And you still won't forgive me?"

Yumi's solemn tone returned, "No."

Then --

"Why should I? You haven't _done_ anything to me."

(which was a terrible shame; Yumi thought fleetingly.)

"But I lied to you!" Ulrich retorted, he looked out of sorts. He looked exactly how Yumi had felt only moments earlier. Now she felt much better. Ulrich had, basically, rebelled against his parents, (which everyone does, at some point), partied outrageously, and had a few girlfriends. It really wasn't that bad. In fact, it wasn't bad at all. The boy was practically a saint. Yumi felt oddly giddy. She hadn't realized how much Ulrich's secret had been bothering her; she always imagined it was something so heinous, so terrible that it would change her perception of him forever. The only thing is proved to her was that he couldn't hold his alcohol.

Which was kind of funny, actually.

But yes. She had to keep a straight face. Ulrich had to suffer for keeping her in suspense.

"Yes you did," Yumi agreed. "That was terrible of you. In fact, it makes me doubt your so-called love for me. You're not supposed to lie to the person you're in love with."

"I--" Ulrich seemed at a loss for words. His next statement further proved Yumi's assertion, "... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry?"

Yumi felt momentarily compelled to tell him to go into a corner and think about what he had done, but decided that was going a bit too far. That, and her straight face wouldn't last much longer.

Yumi completely changed the subject, "Do you think Odd is alright?"

"I'm sure he's -- wait, wait a minute. You can't just forget about everything I just said. Yumi, are you even listening to me?"

Yumi had heard him perfectly, "What? I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

Ulrich blanched. His face was too much, Yumi dissolved into laughter. She held her ribs with both arms, very nearly collapsing on the ground in a fit. Yumi was convinced that Ulrich thought she had spiraled into dementia. When he discovered that Yumi was not having convulsions, simply laughing at him, laughing at herself, and laughing at the world, he crossed his arms in distinct irritation.

He was not amused.

He was, or so Yumi thought, actually very angry. It must have been because she hadn't taken him seriously. His foul mood continued until, sobered by his pissy-ness (pissy-ness, Yumi thought. Ha, was that even a word? Then -- maybe I really am losing it. Strangely enough, she didn't care), Yumi simply said, very slowly;

"I'm really cold."

Ever the gentlemen, Ulrich stiffly took off his coat -- which he'd had the mind to grab, unlike Yumi -- and slipped it around her shoulders. Taking advantage of their proximity and his irrefutably stormy expression, Yumi smiled, deciding she had, had her fun and said;

"For what it's worth, I forgive you," and then said, almost as if it were an afterthought. "And I love you." Then, she kissed him.

The End.

Or so, it would have been, but when had things ever worked out the way they were supposed to in her life? Never. In retrospect, what happened next, Yumi should have seen coming.

* * *

"Do you know those stories, the ones where the good guy comes in and beats up the bad guy and walks away with a smile?" Odd winced, "This is not one of them."

Aelita patted his shoulder fondly, "There, there. I'll have you fixed in no time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Odd mumbled.

"What was that," Aelita tugged on his bandages, Odd gritted his teeth. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing," Odd sulked.

Jeremie looked in a similar state, but unlike Odd, he was not wounded. Yumi suspected his sulking was a product of how much Aelita was fussing over Odd. Ulrich rubbed his eye despondently; it was mottled purple and shot through with red.

Odd turned his attention from his misery to Ulrich, "What happened to you, buddy?"

Aelita turned her head, as did Jeremie, evaluating Ulrich's condition. Jeremie said nothing, his expression betrayed nothing, as per usual. Aelita gave Ulrich a sympathetic smile.

"Poor Ulrich," Aelita smiled. "Don't worry, as soon as I'm done with Odd, I'll patch you up."

"Um," Ulrich retreated. "That's not necessary?"

Needless to say, Aelita wasn't the best nurse in the world. She did try though. She tried so hard, in fact, that in hopes of curing Odd twice as fast, she drenched his bandages in alcohol before applying them. Her kindness did not go over well.

"Of course it's necessary," Aelita sniped.

"I never anticipated Elisabeth would do such a thing," Jeremie spoke. Yumi turned her head in his direction, remembering.

* * *

Ulrich was a little stunned, but he did get around to kissing her back.

Which was very nice. Until, that is, they were interrupted by something that sounded suspiciously like a banshee.

With no one to hold her back, Elisabeth was determined to put Yumi in her place. Or at least, she attempted to.

"You bitch," she screamed from the last steps of the building. There was a mess of sullied snow at her feet and it seemed she refused to cross it. "How dare you? Do you know how many _years_ I've been after Ulrich?"

The first thing Yumi noticed was that she hadn't been rendered deaf from Elisabeth's outburst, which was good. Elisabeth mistook Yumi wriggling her ears to make sure they worked for indifference, and without further ado, lifted a leg, took off a shoe, and hurled.

Yumi could only guess it was meant for her. The shoe missed, which was good news for Yumi, but hit Ulrich in the eye, which was bad news for him. Elisabeth seemed just as surprised, because a moment later she started spewing apologies at her so-called would be fiancé.

Well, if she hadn't ruined her chances with Ulrich yet, she certainly had now.

Yumi felt a little sorry for Elisabeth, but that quickly ended when Elisabeth attempted to right her wrong with a second shoe. She missed, though not by much, and this was enough to spark Yumi's anger.

Only Ulrich, blindly groping with one eye swelling fast, stopped Yumi.

"So this is how Oedipus felt," Ulrich grumbled as Yumi helped him to his feet.

"Stop being such a baby," Yumi said as Ulrich staggered to keep on his feet. The lack of one eye hindered his balance considerably and they only avoided smashing into the ground by sheer luck.

"Elisabeth Delmas!" an elderly gentleman marched outside. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Daddy," Elisabeth's tone sweetened considerably. Yumi could already see tears starting in her eyes. "Ulrich left me -- for _her_!"

Yumi might as well have been a disease. Considering that Yumi didn't care what Elisabeth thought of her, Yumi ignored her commentary.

"Is this the way I taught you to behave?" the man reprimanded.

"But, daddy--"

"Inside, now!"

Ulrich finally managed to stand upright, wobbling only slightly. "Are you alright?" Yumi asked, concerned. The skin around his eye was starting to turn an ugly shade.

Being Ulrich, Ulrich clutched one hand to his eye and another to his heart. "Yumi," he said dramatically. "Now that I'm deformed, do you think you can still love me?"

Yumi rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "Come on," she let Ulrich lean on her. "Let's go find the others so you can get your eye checked."

"What? You don't want to come live with me in my underground lair and sing songs to me while I play the piano?"

His reference to the Phantom of the Opera didn't escape Yumi, however she chose to ignore it.

"Sorry," Yumi replied. "I love Starbucks too much."

"More than me?" Ulrich said, clutching his heart once again. Yumi was starting to wonder if the blow to the eye hadn't affected his head, somehow.

"Sorry," Yumi shrugged her shoulders as best she could with Ulrich leaning on her side. "Starbucks was here first."

As they trudged along the sidewalk, Yumi felt their silence comfortable, not awkward. There were a million questions she wanted to ask Ulrich, but for now, she was content. Even if it wasn't forever, as things were apt to change, Yumi liked the place they were at now.

They. We. Yumi restrained an uncharacteristic giggle.

"Yumi?"

"Yes?"

"You won't take it back, will you?"

Yumi risked a look at Ulrich, "Won't take what back?"

"What you said, that you love me. I'm still thinking that this is all a dream."

"Me too," Yumi murmured. She had been brave. For the first time in a long time, she'd been brave. It felt good. It felt true.

After a silence, Yumi said, "I'm still scared. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to trust you -- I want to trust you, but, I don't know how."

"It's okay," Ulrich said. Yumi wasn't surprised at his acceptance. It was one of the things about him that charmed her most. How strange and how liberating it was to be able to think such things without having to bite them back.

They found Odd, and concurrently, Jeremie and Aelita. Apparently, despite his noble intentions, Odd had failed to put William in his place. Jeremie, Aelita had explained excitedly, had stepped in and finished William off. Yumi was surprised, she didn't think Jeremie was the type to get into a fight.

Aelita seemed unable to decide who to stand next to, Odd or Jeremie, and settled for in between.

* * *

Everything was perfect. That should have been Yumi's first sign that something bad was going to happen.

While Ulrich compressed his eye with an ice cube and a rag, his phone rang unceremoniously.

"Seven days..." Odd cackled. Aelita hit him in the back of the head for which Ulrich thanked her.

"Hello," Ulrich's voice was polite, detached. Yumi glanced at the clock, it was pretty late. Who could be calling at such an hour? Ulrich's face drained of all color, which should have been Yumi's second sign.

"Mother," he said.

"What?" Odd hissed.

Ulrich placed the receiver down in what resembled a near case of chronic shock.

Jeremie didn't waste time, "Where?" Yumi could almost see the gears in his head turning, calculating, re-evaluating.

Ulrich steeled his expression, "Downstairs."

With certainty, Yumi knew that this was, in fact, The End.

* * *

Two references in this chapter; one to the phantom of the opera, and the other to the ring. So sorry for the slow updates, [insert believable excuses here]. I need to hear you thoughts on this chapter; on Elisabeth's shoe throwing, Odd losing the fight, and Yumi getting revenge. Things are coming to a close; do you like where the story is going?


	14. Fourteen

The colour drained from Aelita's face, leaving two puffs of unnatural rouge on her cheeks. "What?" she hissed. She swerved around to face Jeremie. "How did this happen, I thought you --"

"So did I," Jeremie replied coolly. It was almost fascinating to see him dissect the situation with systematic grace, mulling over a thousand scenarios ceaselessly and seamlessly, discarding and retaking each one, reshaping until it suited him. He turned to Ulrich, "I imagine there's a fire escape somewhere in this complex, where is it?"

"Uh," he was pale, jittery. "I'm not sure. I never really thought the place would catch on fire, you know? I know there's a staircase to the roof in the back --"

"That's fine," Jeremie interjected eyes bright. This was the face of a boy who was winning, who no one knew was winning, who lived for victory and the shock and admiration it brought. "Go up to the roof," he instructed. "Aelita and I will go to greet your mother."

"Hey, what about me?" Odd complained. "What do I get to do? Smuggle the love birds out of the building? Swing down on a chandelier and land on Ulrich's father? Stall by flirting with the receptionist...?

Jeremie ignored his outrageously inappropriate commentary, "You are going to do the most important job of all."

"Really?" Odd asked, interested. It was so painfully obvious that he lived for the spotlight and died without it. "What do I get to do?"

"You get to stay here," Jeremie said flatly. "You must arrange everything so it looks as if Ulrich has not been here in a few days. Can you do that?"

Odd eyed a pile of dishes in the sink, "Sure," he said at last. "Will do."

"Alright," Jeremie affirmed. "We have little time. Aelita," he gave her a pointed look. "Let's go. Yumi, Ulrich -- good luck. Odd, you know what to do."

Odd mock saluted the pair as Jeremie and Aelita exited through the front door.

"C'mon," Ulrich grasped Yumi's hand, pulling her towards the door. "We don't have much time."

"Ulrich," Yumi protested as he locked the door from outside, habitually and unconsciously. "Why can't I just stay and meet them? What's the big deal?"

Ulrich hurried her along the white washed walls of the corridor, "Have you ever seen those really bad soaps on tv, where the parents try to sabotage the protagonists by killing one of them or blackmailing them, or whatever?"

"Um," Yumi skimmed her memory. "Sometimes, when I'm bored."

"Yeah," Ulrich said as the elevator opened. A shiny row of silver buttons with corresponding key slots were muted against the opaque silver. "It's something like that."

"I don't think that...," Yumi trailed off, remember that this was Ulrich, after all. Anything was possible. The elevator rose smoothly, and when Yumi pressed her hand to the walls, the smudges of her fingerprints stayed behind.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Ulrich teased the seat belt into it's appropriate slot, "Somewhere I can ditch this car. Then, we can take a taxi somewhere else."

Yumi thought she might be dreaming. "What for?" she hissed. "Ulrich, I don't care how scary your parents are, they are not the mafia --"

"I wouldn't be too surprised," Ulrich retorted dryly. "My car has a GPS tracker in it; I know this because my father told me the day he gave it to me. It's the only thing he didn't take away, but I think that's because it was already shipped overseas when he decided to disown me. That, and he has so many he probably forgot about it. In other words, if I don't want him to find me, I need to get as far away from this car as possible."

"Why didn't you just have it removed?" Yumi asked as Ulrich made a sharp turn. It knocked the breath out of her lungs, she made a quiet curse.

"Jeremie was going to," Ulrich paused, and Yumi knew he was driving aimlessly. It made her restless. "-- but, we got into an argument before I left and he never got around to it."

"What?" Yumi gasped as he made another severe turn. "An argument about what?"

"The specifics are a little blurry, but it was between Odd, Aelita and Jeremie and I sort of sided with the wrong person," he smiled crookedly. "I'm not sure that Jeremie has forgiven me for that yet."

_The specifics are a little blurry_ was a nice way of saying _I'd rather not talk about it_. The topic of the argument was pretty obvious. Or not. It was hard to tell with those three. Comparatively speaking, Yumi had, had a relatively easy set of woes. She should be thankful. Or at least, she would be, if she wasn't being hunted down by the in-laws from hell.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is going on with --"

"I'd rather you didn't ask," Ulrich interrupted. "Sorry, but, it's complicated."

Yumi allowed herself a curt, nervous laugh. "That sounded like a cheesy line from a bad soap," she quipped.

"Sounds like you watch soaps more than just _sometimes_."

"Whatever," Ulrich didn't need to know that Yumi had harbored a slight hope that Doctor Roberts and Minnie would realize that they were meant for each other. It was her first week in New York and she had been bored. Without cable, she'd gotten three channels at best and the other two were otherwise occupied with court shows and jerry springer. Desperate times called for desperate measures but not _that_ desperate.

"How do you feel about staying at a motel?" Ulrich asked, abruptly. Yumi gave him a look that told him exactly how she felt about staying at a motel. He didn't bring it up again. "We can't stay at a hotel," he informed her. "I don't have any cash on me -- just credit cards, and my father would find us in a heartbeat."

"Ulrich, I still think that I should --"

"I like you nice and alive," Ulrich said as he swerved to the right. "Besides, take pity on me, I've already lost one eye, I don't want to lose another."

Yumi dismissed his comment, privately admitting that the swelling around his eye had worsened. "Let's go to my apartment," Yumi offered. "Your parents don't know where I live -- they don't even know who I am."

"Yeah," Ulrich admitted. "Though I admit, this wasn't how I wanted you to invite me to spend the night."

Yumi gave him a withering look. "Or," she offered. "You can drop me off at my house and go hide under a bridge."

Ulrich raised his hands in surrender.

"Hey!" Yumi exclaimed. "I like myself nice and alive too."

Ulrich's hands retreated back unto the steering wheel. "Sorry," he replied. "I already told you that I can't think when you're around."

"Great," Yumi rolled her eyes. "So if we get into a car accident, it's all my fault?"

"Something like that."

There was a pause in conversation and Yumi's hands dampened as they slid down the windows, tracing circular shapes aimlessly.

"Ulrich," she caught his peripheral as he pressed on the accelerator slightly. "You know, you're parents aren't going to disappear. You can't run from there forever."

"Sure I can," Ulrich said ruefully, there was a bitterness in his voice that Yumi was startled to hear. So, the perfect boy was starting to disintegrate. She still loved him, she couldn't bring herself not to.

And that was the problem wasn't it? No matter how many messes he dragged her into, no matter how many secrets he dug up, how many lies were exposed, how utterly fucked up he resulted to be, she was too involved to ever get out.

"They love you," Yumi started. "I'm sure that they --"

"What about your parents?" Ulrich interrupted.

"What about them?" Yumi's voice was cold, hard.

Yumi's apartment complex was indistinguishable in the dark. It hurt and the distance was pointless. Deleting messages on her answering machine was pointless. Pushing it into the corner of her mind was pointless.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have --" Ulrich faltered. "Yumi, are you alright?"

"What?" Yumi asked, uncomprehending. Ulrich's forefinger brushed against the corner of her eye. He always made her cry and she never understood why. "Oh."

"Oh," Ulrich echoed her regret.

How ironic. She was the girl who didn't need anyone and he was the boy who had everything and it wasn't enough.

* * *

"I heard you scream."

"Whaa--," Yumi twisted the cotton sheets clumsily. Ulrich seemed to tower at the foot of her bed, shadows crossing his cheekbone and the length of his arm. Yumi's mouth felt dry. "What screams?"

The entire bed creaked in protest as Ulrich seated himself. "You have nightmares," he informed her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't have nightmares," Yumi protested blearily.

"You want a glass of water?" Ulrich asked as he stood.

"You don't even know where the cups are at," Yumi laughed.

Ulrich shrugged, "I'm sure I can figure it out. Oh, and Yumi?"

"Yes?"

Ulrich gave her his trademark half smile, which set a couple of alarms off in Yumi's head.

"Sorry about your door..."

* * *

"I can't believe you broke my door down."

"You were screaming," Ulrich explained. "I thought something might be wrong. Is it my fault that you locked your door?"

"The hinges are still standing," Yumi murmured absently as she sipped the water Ulrich had so graciously handed to her as she continued to stare at the remains of her bedroom door. "I didn't even hear you break it down..."

"You were still screaming when I came in," Ulrich added. "I'll replace it, if you want."

Yumi nodded mutely.

"Are you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?"

Yumi raised her eyes to Ulrich and her lips thinned to a one eighty, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Is this your way to get back at me for not telling you about Aelita, Odd, and Jeremie?"

Yumi thought about it. "A little," she confessed.

"We can do a trade-off," Ulrich suggested. "You tell me about your nightmare, I'll tell you about Aelita, Odd, and Jeremie."

She could make up some pseudo dream, fabricate something that Ulrich would believe, or pretend to believe. The safety she would gain by hiding her true nightmares which translated into her true weaknesses didn't appeal to her as much as she thought it would. This was new. Yumi allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sensation of not caring what Ulrich thought about her. Or, maybe, it wasn't that she didn't care so much as that she knew that instead of criticize and demean her, he would help her feel better about it. The concept of someone whose only purpose was to build you up instead of knocking you down was amazing.

"Okay," Yumi said slowly. "Deal."

"Alright," Ulrich said with a frown. "I suppose I owe you -- and your door -- to start first."

"Yes," Yumi was all rapt attention. "Go on."

"Well, it all started a couple of months ago..."

* * *

For a few days things were relatively peaceful. They developed a routine; Ulrich would make coffee and Yumi would complain about the cold as Ulrich humored her with a smile. Sometimes they huddled together on the couch and watched the morning soap operas, mocking the outrageously overdone acting and the equally bad script. Sometimes Ulrich drove her to school and Yumi thought about him all day, wondering what he was doing, if he was still inside, or if he had dared to venture outside lest he run into his parents. Sometimes they would go and have coffee in the bakery in which they met, careful to evade the receptionist that Yumi knew, if she saw them together, wouldn't let her hear the end of it.

"But I thought she was nice?"

"Shut up," Yumi said, not unkindly as she buttoned the cuff of his coat. "You don't know what you're talking about."

A week passed and Yumi swore that at any moment existing like this would give away to some great dissonance, that it couldn't possibly be this good for so long. That something wrong _had_ to happen.

On the tenth day of their self made utopia, of the fantasy of playing house that had persisted, a fantasy that had become paramount to Yumi's happiness, the world came to a stop. And so did Ulrich's heart.


	15. Fifteen

"Hypoglycemia is rare in diabetic patients," the nurse explained as she schooled her expression into that of professional sympathy. "Unless the patient is careless with his insulin intake, there really is no reason why it should occur. However," a disapproving frown which was violently jerked from her features as she realized she was not alone. "Such is the case, and so the patient will remain hospitalized until we can regulate his abnormally low blood glucose levels."

Yumi's hands were shaking. She vaguely understood the acute and chronic complications of diabetes when incorrectly treated, but not well enough to diagnose the seriousness of Ulrich's condition. "Luckily," the nurse continued, not sounding very pleased at all. Yumi wondered if she derived pleasure from anything at all. "You reacted quickly and hospitalization should be brief as the patient will be discharged as soon as the doctor administers an intravenous infusion of dextrose and the patient stabilizes."

Yumi nodded her head in absent understanding. Her fingers traced in circular motion around the edge of a Styrofoam cup. The glare of fluorescent light hit the coffee, shimmering in and out of existence as it lapped from one side to the other. This was kind of soothing, Yumi thought as she abandoned the coffee on a metal table, catching the glittering once more before settling back into her seat. What else could she do to keep herself occupied? It was a game she had been playing for a few hours in hopes that she wouldn't have to commit to a serious thought until they were okay to deal with.

Red bloomed at the edge of her peripheral.

"Eat something," Aelita pleaded. "I know you don't want to, but you must."

"No," Yumi closed her eyes briefly, inhaling. The lights bled into her vision and she reopened her eyes.

"Stop behaving like a child," Jeremie intoned.

Aelita jabbed him in the ribs. "Ow," Jeremie said, belatedly. The humor sparked in Yumi's chest and died before it could reach action.

"Fine," Jeremie smarted, annoyed. "Starve -- see how beneficial that is to Ulrich."

This time, Aelita stepped on him. Four inches of agony and Jeremie winced in poorly concealed pain. "Stop being such an insensitive imbecile," she snapped. "Can't you see she's distressed?"

"The only thing I see are black spots," Jeremie groaned, knocking his foot against the wall in an attempt to distract himself from the pain.

"Look," Odd started. "I'm sure that if Ulrich was here, he would want you to eat."

Aelita hit him over the head with her bag. "You idiot," she hissed. "Don't talk about Ulrich as if he were dead!" She let out an exasperated sigh, "Men," she huffed. "Sometimes I doubt they have the capacity for anything other than failure."

Self deception was in play now. Ulrich was dead; Yumi reasoned preemptively, what then? She would go back to living her life, evading the memory of her parents, and then Ulrich's. Repression really wasn't that bad, not if you convinced yourself that you weren't doing it. Didn't people do this all the time? Yes, and she would too.

How long had she been here? Hospitals made her sick and the irony almost killed her.

It astounded Yumi to realize that she couldn't deal with this. She could deal with leaving behind everything and everyone she had ever known, she could deal with being alone in a country she'd never been in, she could deal with the language barriers, the constant alienation, and the loneliness. But she couldn't deal with losing Ulrich.

The emotional pressure of losing something so substantial to her happiness was crushing. Yumi had no reason to which explain to herself that she was being illogical. She had lived before him and she would live after him - except, she corrected herself, what she had done before Ulrich couldn't truly be called living. It was just existing, chasing one thrill after the next in hopes that it would feed the gaping hole inside of her into fullness.

Ulrich made her feel so full.

Yumi buried her face in her hands. She wanted to die. Her head hurt, her eyes hurt, her limbs hurt; all she knew now was pain and immolation. A world without Ulrich seemed useless, a steep fall from technicolor into black and white. When did it come to this and why? It seemed unreasonable but reason never could touch them. Yumi went in circles until her vision blurred, tears and she couldn't understand that either. Aelita held her, tight and secure, saying nothing but her silence said something. It said -

"Here, take this," long fingers slipped a cup into Yumi's hands. The tea was ginger and sedatives. "It'll let you sleep."

Yumi pushed heavy porcelain back into Jeremie's hands. A flicker of emotion struck his face momentarily but he superimposed it with nonchalance too quickly for Yumi to tell what it had been. "I'm sorry," Yumi apologized. "I just don't want to..."

Yumi wasn't sure what she was saying, where she was aiming. Everything was confused. "He's going to be fine," Aelita held her a little tighter, reassurance in the form of her small, strong fingers. "And when he recovers I'm going to put him back into this hospital for being so stupid."

Dry laughter tumbled out of Yumi's lips; it hurt in a strangely comforting way. She always was a bit of a masochist. "I hope this doesn't change anything," Aelita murmured as her free hand swept through her hair.

Yumi looked up, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Aelita started. "Now you know that Ulrich is diabetic. This is a life long thing, Yumi. Some people can't handle that and I completely understand if you decide you can't be with him," her mouth curved. "And by completely understand I mean I will hunt you down and kill you."

"Oh," Yumi's laughter was a little more alive. "If it makes you feel any better, I've known for a long time."

Aelita's lips were made into a luxurious smile. "You clever girl," she said with her tinkerbell laugh. "How did you know?"

"I helped him put stuff in his bathroom..." Yumi trailed off, too tired to relay the entire story. How he had maneuvered her into his life, how she'd let him.

"What kind of a doctor are you?" Aelita knocked her fist against Yumi's head in a harmless gesture. "Letting a diabetic patient go without his insulin..."

"He doesn't know I know," Yumi confessed. "I figured he would tell me when he wanted to. I never imagined he would be this reckless."

"He was a little preoccupied," Aelita reasoned. "If breathing wasn't an automated function, I think he would forget to do that, too. You make him forget everything except you." Aelita paused, thoughtful. "Wow, it's like a love story..." She gazed dreamily at the ceiling. Yumi rolled her eyes.

"I can see where Ulrich gets his dramatic speeches from."

"Of course," Aelita disengaged herself to clap her hands together, a moment reminiscent of when they'd met. She liked applauding her own genius, Yumi noted with some amusement. "Aren't they great?"

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Yumi dabbed her fingers along her lashes to make sure the last of the tears were dry. "They're kind of annoying, actually."

Aelita looked about ready to burst into her own dramatic soliloquy, suitably offended when the nurse who had attended them reappeared.

"The procedure is complete," she intoned. "However, you may not see the patient -"

"Psh," Aelita stood up, and her defiance was oddly charming. "I'd like to see you try to stop me."

The nurse sighed as if she was suffering antagonizing boredom. "Please," she said in the most deadpan voice Yumi had ever heard. "Stop, don't go."

Aelita breezed past her. The nurse trailed after her with another sigh.

"She certainly is cheerful." Jeremie's smile was so discreet that Yumi wondered if she imagined it. She realized this was the first time she had ever been alone with Jeremie. He seemed like the sort to keep to his corner so long as she kept to hers so his attempt at conversation was mildly startling.

"Where did Odd go?" Yumi asked, suddenly realizing his absence.

Jeremie looked at her for a moment. His eyes darted in another direction and his lips twisted into something sardonic. "He is entertaining Ulrich's parents as we speak. He is trying to save the lamb from the wolf, so to speak." The reference was not lost upon Yumi.

"I don't need to be saved."

"Not for long, but currently you require saving," Jeremie spoke as if he was explaining a rather simple procedure that was self explanatory. "You cannot confront his parents until you are completely sure of your feelings. It will be a hard fight and you cannot fight it without the proper weapons. His parents may not be the paragon of nurturing, but they do love him, well, as best as they can love." He paused, breaking and reassembling thoughts in his head. "For the fear of sounding cliché," the smile returned to his face, but it lacked any real feeling. "You must fight fire with fire. Love with love. Your love is not strong enough. You act afraid and unbalanced. You cannot show how you feel."

"Neither can you," Yumi pointed out, defensively. She was sick of being dissected. "But you still love Aelita, don't you?"

Something cold and hard layered Jeremie's face. It was like a mantle, a mask of ice. But ice always concealed something else...

"Do not lose focus of your feelings and why they exist," Jeremie spoke, completely disregarding her question. "Reasoning is the highest good but feeling has no reason. I do not think you could solve that paradox but I do hope you find something by which to stay afloat."

He was so arrogant, Yumi realized. However, the difference between him and William and about every other man she'd ever met is that he had reason to be arrogant. Subconsciously, Yumi searched for a weakness and found none. Except, she realized a moment later, Jeremie's weakness was so glaringly obvious that it was impossible to miss.

"I need to go find Aelita," Yumi thought aloud. Something akin to triumph graced Jeremie's face. "I need to see Ulrich."

Jeremie stepped to the side as if he had been standing in her way. He spoke once more as Yumi walked away, his words imprinting in her mind.

"In like a lamb, out like a lion..."

* * *

it only took me forever and a handful of days to update, but hey... I admit I was not going to finish this story at all, but a couple of messages changed my mind. You know who you are.


	16. Sixteen

"Hello stranger."

You could tell it hurt to move. Ulrich smiled, lazy, as if he was just resting, and it was okay, and everything was fine. Yumi could not speak. It was as if she couldn't get enough oxygen and she stuttered over thought and action, feeling as if this wasn't her and he was someone else and she had walked into a place she didn't know.

"Are you okay?" Ulrich frowned, trying to angle forward and better assuage her condition. It was too much, and he settled for an exhale and an awkward pause. "I guess I should have told you about this. Yumi," he paused, searching for the words. This meant he didn't know what to say or didn't want to say what he knew. It hurt to know him that well. Yumi sat down, the base of her spine touching the cold hard plastic of the chair that Aelita had left in front of the bed.

"Yumi," Ulrich tried again. "Say something. Anything."

Yumi stared ahead in silence, dragging her palms over her thighs, feeling the fabric hot and coarse beneath her hands. Her vision was focused on an empty vase on a corresponding table, superimposed by the blur of salt and water. Her chest felt tight, fingers cold. Ulrich tried to sit up again, and this time he managed to swing upwards. It was a herculean effort and every moment of it was agony. This was not the boy she met at the cafe, free and strong and undeterred. No, this boy was dying.

His long, lean arms reached her, fingers tracing a misformed line across her cheekbones. They came away wet. Yumi fell into him, her nose brushing the hollow of his neck. She could feel his pulse, and that was oddly comforting, a neat reminder that he was still alive. It was probably uncomfortable for him to sit this way, but it felt safe, and Yumi wanted to savor that for as long as she could. His arms traced her spine, and then folded strings of hairs behind her ears, landing at her shoulders, pushing her in.

Yumi pushed him away, which probably hurt her more than it hurt him and said, "Your parents are here." She straightened her shoulders. "I'm going to talk to them, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Ulrich had the gall to laugh. Yumi frowned, incredulous, "What, aren't you going to fight me on this?"

"Well," Ulrich sighed. "There really is nothing I can do about it. As you can see, I'm confined to this bed. That, and I'm way too tired to argue with you. It takes a lot of energy to argue with you. Besides," he relaxed his shoulders and sunk back into the bed. "I love you. Nothing they say or do is going to change my mind. The only thing they'll accomplish is wasting my time and the oxygen in this room."

"And you decided this when? Because if I remember correctly, you were freaking out the last time I even thought to suggest meeting them." Yumi crossed her arms over her chest, irritated. The only reason he was taking it easy was because all he had to do was play dead while she stood in front of the firing squad. Stupid, stupid men. Yumi was beginning to see where Aelita got her outlook on life.

"Yeah, well it's amazing what near death experiences will do to you." He turned away, thoughtful. The humor was dead space between them now and the only thing that remained was the chirping of machines in the room. "I knew I was going to die and I thought of everyone and how they would feel, what they would do after I was dead. It was strange, thinking about it like that, objectively I mean. Anyway, I was thinking about it, and I couldn't think of what my parents would say outside of making sure that the funeral was classy enough to honor our name and sad enough to inherit them some humanity. In the eyes of the public anyway, I don't think they care for humanity otherwise."

Yumi frowned. "Your parents love you, they have to."

"Yeah," Ulrich sighed. "They just love their money and their name more."

"Ulrich..."

"It's alright," another sigh. "Aelita already tried her whole psychoanalysis, make it all better thing, you don't have to. I'm fine. I'm okay. I've come to terms that being privileged comes with a price. It's just ironic that it's the things that can't be bought that you have to pay with."

Yumi looked down. She wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure she could say something. Years of perfected politically correct politeness caught at her throat and stayed. She wasn't sure she could say anything to Ulrich that wasn't sincere. It felt wrong to lie to him, and useless.

"Okay," Yumi looked up. "What are you going to do after this?"

Ulrich winced as he shrugged on to his side. "What do you mean?"

"I just - "

"I'll be damned if I cannot see my own son!" A sort of simpering on the outside, followed by a crude crash. "Is that his room? Go see if that's him."

"Now, darling," this voice was all bored, cultured hauteur. "You mustn't make such a mess of things. I swear, everywhere we go, you simply must make absurd demonstrations such as these. I really do lament going out in public with you." A fleeting sigh. "I can clearly see our son over there, can't you? There is also a girl sitting in front of him." Garbled baritone. "Who is she? Why, I don't know. What do you think I am, psychic? Stop being such a brute and follow me."

If Yumi had a white flag she would have raised it. She always thought that it would be a verbal lashing that would take place between Ulrich and his parents, not a physical one. Admittedly, she could be pig headed about many things, but the percentage of her winning a physical fight was not one of them.

"Um," she said, inelegantly. "Does your father usually resolve his problems with fist fights?"

"Well," Ulrich hedged.

Yumi bit her lip. This wasn't a firing squad, it was a guillotine.

To some degree, Yumi should have anticipated that Ulrich's mother would have been beautiful - but beauty seemed trite when used to describe her. Her bone structure was sharp and she had vivid, passionate eyes. Her mouth was generous and cold. Briefly, Yumi thought of Elisabeth and figured why Ulrich's parents had loved her so much. She was just like them - or would be, given time.

"Ulrich, darling," his mother smiled but it was devoid of any affection. "I see you survived. Well, that's good. Funerals are ridiculously expensive these days." Her eyes crawled from him to Yumi. Yumi flinched. "Why hello," her mouth curved. Yumi felt like a butterfly underneath a glass jar. "And who are you?"

"Never mind her," Ulrich's father dismissed her as if she were a flea. He was tall - much taller than Yumi ever imagined a human being could be. Where Ulrich's features were more boyish, his were crueler. He was undeniable attractive but his bite was obviously worse than his bark.

"Mother," Ulrich's mouth thinned into a line. "Father."

"Having us run after you was very unappreciated," his mother chided halfheartedly. Yumi doubted they even moved an inch to find him, they probably paid someone to do it. "I did teach you better, my darling boy. Look at the state you are in - had you stayed you would have never fallen this way." Her mouth quivered but she straightened her shoulders and it simultaneously. She came closer, which seemed to surprise her husband because he watched her with something akin to muted surprise. She leaned over, her coat brushed Yumi's thigh. She kissed Ulrich's forehead. "You are my only son," her words were almost tender but they lacked the fundamental quality of tenderness - love. Her speech was more disappointed than anything else. "You are to cease this ridiculous gallivanting and return home at once."

"You can't force me to return, " Ulrich argued coolly.

His mother smiled her notsmile. "You'd be surprised what money can achieve. You would know if you had not opted for this frugal and pointless lifestyle."

Yumi couldn't believe it. They would pay someone to drag him into a plane if they had to. They were like the spanish inquisition minus the inquisition part.

"I won't go," Ulrich stood his ground, as much as he could anyway. They all knew his words had no substance behind them. All his parents had to do was bribe the hospital staff. If they hadn't already, that is.

Ulrich's father advanced, and it didn't look like he wanted to talk. Ulrich's mother placed her small hands on his arm. There was no force behind the gesture but it stopped him nonetheless. "Darling, can you _not_? He is coming. Wait outside while I sort things out."

"I will not wait outside while this brat defies me."

Ulrich's mother rolled her eyes. Distinctly, Yumi thought of Aelita. This too was a woman at the height of her power. "Wait outside, I have no time to deal with _two_ children. Have your tantrum outside if you please. You can nurse your bruised ego out there. I am his mother and I know what to do with him."

Ulrich's father did not move. He was like a statue, impassive.

Ulrich's mother rolled her shoulders and snapped her neck so quickly that Yumi thought she'd broken it. Her voice lowered an octave, "I will not repeat myself. Leave or I will force you to."

Yumi couldn't even imagine how they had maintained a marriage without committing homicide. To think she had thought her parents to be the paragon of a dysfunctional marriage. Ulrich's father actually left. That's when Yumi realized that the true horror was Ulrich's mother and not his father. She walked over to the door and closed it. Yumi had the distinct impression that she was going to die a horrible, mangled death.

"Now that I am free of that distraction, who are you again?"

"Who, me?" Yumi asked innocently.

Ulrich's mother narrowed her eyes. "There is nothing more that I despise more than a weak girl. Now tell me who you are or I will give you real reason to have amnesia."

Had this lady just _threatened_ her? Oh no, it was over with. Yumi didn't let her own parents disrespect her and she sure as hell wasn't going to let a paper cut out pretense intimidate her.

"Mother, this is Yumi," Ulrich stepped in for her, smoothly. "She would be my girlfriend."

"I am _not_ your girlfriend," Yumi hissed.

"Okay," Ulrich raised his hands in defeat. "This is Yumi, she is _not_ my girlfriend."

Ulrich's mother quirked an eyebrow, "So then who is she?"

Ulrich sighed dramatically, furrowing his brow in contemplation. "I don't know anymore..."

His mother rolled her eyes at the same time Yumi did.

"While I almost never agree with your father," she started, dismissing the topic of Yumi's identity altogether. "We have both come to the agreement that it is imperative that you return home."

"And why is that?" Ulrich asked.

"Your father has gotten lazy," she shrugged. "That is the truth. He needs someone to take over the business, etc. You know the rest."

"I don't want anything to do with your empire." Ulrich retorted.

"I'm aware," snapped, and then ironed her tone out. "However there is no one else to manage the business. You know it is serious when your father has allowed me to drag him all around the world in search of you despite your little attempts at overthrowing him."

"You disowned me," there was anger there. Yumi felt unwelcome, an intruder in the conversation. "You have no right to ask me for any favors."

"Yes..." His mother looked genuinely put out, but the look was eradicated from her well bred features a moment later. "In actuality, your father intended to hand over the business to some removed cousin or another but I would not allow it. It is half my empire, as you know, and I will not have a stranger handle it. You know I cannot, Ulrich." She paused. "There is nothing I can say or do that will convince you to take up the family business. It would be naive of me to think so. I know I have never been an ideal mother - or mother at all, to you. I understand the resentment and dislike you may harbor for me. I can almost applaud the loathing you have for your father, God knows I can barely stand the man myself..."

"Then why don't you just divorce him?" Yumi blurted out without thinking.

Ulrich's mother actually laughed. "Better now, I think I almost like you, girl. Well, after so many years of marriage, it's almost an obligation to be married to him. Besides, marriage in the upper class is almost never about what you want."

"In any case," she continued. "It needs a leader. You are it. I will have no one else. I am quite certain that most of your reasoning for refuting it is because you so loathe being controlled by us. Rest assured that once you are the head of the business, we will cease to exist. It isn't all about face, darling."

"I don't care. I don't want any part of it."

"Understandable," Ulrich's mother pursed her gloss slick lips. "Darling ... you and I have always been co-conspirators of sorts, haven't we? Your father isn't going to offer this sort of thing again, and I want you to have it. I cannot give you anything else - not even my love. I have simply been sucked dry by society. I am begging you - _begging you_ to accept this. Please. You are what we never could be - warm, loving, selfless. I think the Stern empire needs a revolution, don't you?"

"Why do you care?" Ulrich sounded like a rebellious, petulant child. It would have provoked humor in another place, another time. Now it was like watching an old movie, film tattered at the edges, screen streaked with static.

"From the moment you were born you were placed in the arms of a nanny. You were kept inside and tutored by the best - but still, strangers. Then we sent you off to Kadic. I have done nothing for you. I gave you jewels and cars and high society. None of it matters, none of it lasts. I cannot love you, my darling boy. I gave birth to you, and yet I cannot bring myself to love you. I have always treated you as if you were another doll in my collection and it is too late for me to change. So I am loving you in the only way I know how to - by giving you this. At least I know now that when I die, I will die with one less sin on my chest."

"Money can't buy salvation," Ulrich sniped.

She actually winked, "My dear," she laughed. "Why do you think I have always been a devout catholic - of course it can."

Silence.

"...what guarantee do I have that you'll both disappear?" Ulrich sounded dubious.

"None, of course. You should know by know that I am too spirited a woman to spin intricate lies to trap you. I like the adventure of forcing people to deal with the truth. Everything is as I have presented it to you. Your father and I are going away, for a time. Hopefully I can lose him along the way..."

"And what about the money?" Ulrich asked. "I imagine you're going to need some if you're going to be traveling all over the world all the time. You would constantly need to dip into company funds, which means I will have to see you constantly."

It seemed that, that did hurt her somewhat. She may have been a terrible mother, but he was her son. She must feel _something_, Yumi rationalized.

"Silly boy," and the mock tenderness was there again. It was slightly clipped, however, almost melancholy. "I have always known the pleasure of economic intelligence. I have my own funds to support any endeavors I wish to pursue. Your father has his own means as well. You will never see us unless you choose to, and it is understandable that you never will."

They shook hands. Or at least, she shook one of his hands. There was no dramatic pause, or awkwardness; it was business.

"Now," she pointedly looked at Yumi. "I advise you to sort this boyfriend-not boyfriend dilemma soon. I also happen to despise indecisiveness."

Yumi wondered if she liked anything at all. Oh right, money. She liked that. What an empty existence.

She crossed the room in quick, concise strides. Didn't look back. Closed the door, and it was over.

A minute passed, then two. A horrible, strangled laughter tumbled out of Yumi's lips. "Well," she said, now knowing that Ulrich was more of an orphan than she was. "That was anti-climatic."

"What?" Ulrich asked. "You were expecting her to come at you with a knife?"

"Yeah," Yumi admitted.

"Yeah." Ulrich complemented quietly.

"So," and her voice sounded empty. "What are you going to do after this?" The question, on repetition, was so much heavier than before. Yumi was almost afraid of the answer, but she was too involved and too awake to be afraid anymore.

"It all depends on you."

Yumi gave him a curious look, "What?"

Ulrich smiled but it was all wrong and Yumi felt her heart sink.

* * *

this was supposed to be the last chapter but it was getting too long so i cut it in half. next is the last. speak your mind and tell me how you think this is going to end.


	17. Seventeen

if ever there was a doubt

my love she leans into me

this most assuredly counts

she says most assuredly

Yumi found herself too young and unlived to know acceptance. There was nothing more marvelous, more keenly gossamer than complacency. when was she was a little girl, she thought that love was so fantastically blinding, bigger than the world, irrefutable, incorrigible. That it was like black, that it drew from every color until it was nothing, imperceptible and untouchable. That it was the most righteous justice, and it was forever. Through the vivid and often inglorious scenes of her childhood, her visions of love were radicalized and revolutionized until she found it incomprehensible and beyond her reach. Yumi ultimately reasoned that she was not made for it, and that it was not made for her. That she was too hard, too firm, too set in her ways.

She now understood that she did not understand love. Through the imitation of life taught by television, she had mimicked emotion and consistency. Inside, she was withdrawn, pragmatic, delighting in that she saw her heart as it was, ugly muscle, and filled each chamber with mathematics and statistics. Yumi shed the skin of her childhood and loved what could not love, what could not love her or stop loving her. She threw herself into literature and art; music filled her elementary education and data the tender years of her secondary.

Her hair was cut, black and slick against her skull. She dominated herself and her world. She felt power and slept, dreaming of it and grieving, always grieving, for what she had lost - was losing. And it was the sleep of dogs - that imperceptible sadness that never could find a name because it never saw color.

and then -

then, there is a memory :

Actually, not memory, because Ulrich bled through her fingers like colored water, and it wasn't until months that she realized she ought to remember, she ought to have paid attention. That Ulrich was,

that he was --

it was the grandest frustration to try to define Ulrich. He was unplanned, uninvited, and uncontrollable.

and that was what intrigued her about him, what drew her to him. She denied herself the pleasure of openly admitting that it was because of it that she liked him and the arrogance of her youth manifested in thinking that she could somehow - that she had _already_ evaded whatever Ulrich was. That she had sidestepped whatever he had done - was doing. That she was greater, more intelligent, cleverer, quicker. Yumi's mistake was in trying to outwit her own humanity.

Actually, her mistake was letting him follow her home, but Yumi sincerely doubted that it would have mattered if she had consciously made that choice or not, because somehow he would rearrange time and life to reconnect at some point with her, to hopelessly tangle her life in his.

And why he did it she would never know. It was the same vein that art was made from, and it was inexplicable.

In any case, while Yumi found love to be something quite different than what she had supposed in her infancy and reinvented in her adolescent years, she still found one consistency that appealed to her with a force that she could not control, could not deny.

It was bigger than the world, and it was bigger than her.

--

"So she said yes?"

Aelita looked so tender, so sweetly young that Jeremie could not help himself and he kissed her hair, combing it with his long, knowing fingers.

"Actually, she said no."

--

Thinking about herself and what she did and why she did it always irritated Yumi because she could never reach a sure conclusion. She briefly considered semantics and rolled her tongue around syllables, wondering about fate and destiny and all the idealistic reasoning she --

_covered her ears_, she did not want to hear and Ulrich was prying - _prying_, her hands from her ears and she was crying, crying like the little girl she never was.

tapered down. Most of that afternoon was gone from her memory. One thing that obstinately remained was the tragedy of running into Jeremie as she stumbled out of the door. His eyes were ink, colorless and intimate, laced with something heavy and warm, like poison.

it was the look of someone who knew they had won and there was an absence of pleasure in that winning, and all that remained was the sickening feeling of having seen the burning before the star.

--

"I don't understand," Aelita wrinkled her nose, as to illustrate her confusion.

she smelled like perfumed water and frost. Jeremie fumbled for a way to paint the thrilling sadness that had transpired and resented the limitations of language. "Aelita, do you remember the tale we once heard, a very long time ago, the one about the mermaid?"

"Yes," Aelita supplied disdainfully. "The mermaid ends up dying and turning into sea foam, and then since that ending sucked so badly, Hans Christian Andersen decided to make her spirit rise from the foam and become an air spirit or something. That ending sucked even more than the original, if you ask me, because at least the original was believable. And then Disney had to muck it all up..."

she was doing it again and Jeremie sighed, touched her blushed cheeks with patience. He was beginning to doubt that Aelita would ever outgrow her fierce belief in static and stable behavior, a connotation associated with childhood. Still, her vivacity never fell short of charming him and he smiled.

"Yes, but you're missing the point. The point is, the mermaid's spirit rose from the foam because of her good intentions. And even though she didn't marry the prince, she was able to become something more, and ascend to heaven."

Aelita waved his patience away with her own impatience. "Yeah, yeah, I know the story. I just don't see its relevance."

Jeremie twined his fingers together, and rested his chin there. "No, but Yumi did."

--

except fairytales are fallacies and Yumi understood that once she denied everything Ulrich stood for by refusing his undiluted want and need of her, her world would come asunder like stained glass windows in cathedral.

that didn't stop her from saying no - it actually reinforced the strange, divine and misguided belief that consumed and moved her. Life became very inconspicuous once she left that hospital. Yumi found the kinetic comfort of walking with strangers who could not know her secrets.

She walked a very long time, stopped - and thought _this house is not home_, and in that moment, knew herself completely and absolutely, for the stray that she was. Yumi crumpled into her bathtub, desperately filling it with water as she folded underneath the weight of having lost the only man who had seen through her better than she ever could have, and never resented her for her resentment.

--

"Can you pick another story? I don't like this parallel."

"No."

"Jeremie, I waited a _whole day_ for you to come back and tell me what happened because I was forced to return early because of that minor detail, that my over seers could have _easily_ taken care of..."

"That minor detail, as you so eloquently put it, was the explosion of one of your warehouses."

"It's a computer warehouse, there are bound to be some casualties," Aelita pouted inconclusively. Jeremie was obviously displeased that she was minimizing an event that caused her millions of dollars and would have cost her thousands of workers if it had occurred at a more inopportune time.

Strategically, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled her to him, effectively crushing his lips with her own. Jeremie knew this kiss to be one of her indolent cover ups when she neither wanted to admit to fault or displease him. Still, he really could not resist her.

He gripped her shoulders and said,

"Now, do you want me to finish telling you the story or not?"

What he meant to say was; Aelita, you can't have it both ways.

"Yes!" Aelita exclaimed, cheered up by the prospect.

"Alright, well, as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted..."

"Hey, I don't call being kissed by a fantastically pretty and super intelligent girl --"

"Aelita."

"Oh alright, have it your way. I'll shut up now. Go on, what happened next?"

--

to avoid having to thumb through her memory, Yumi simply labeled that afternoon as the incident, and referred to it as one might a documentary or some great tragedy that one had heard but could never accurately exhibit the adequate emotion for the lack of the actual experience.

everything was about isolation and alienation. Yumi had the very intent of removing herself so far from the incident that it would no longer pertain to her, but to someone else, and she would sympathetically nod to its memory with the grace of someone who knows social etiquette, but would not feel anything real or definite.

she had to suffer. Things like the incident were like fevers, you had to sweat them out with suffering. This presented a problem because Yumi was under the impression that she had suffered enough. She was also under the impression that she wasn't getting anywhere with her flawed logic. Surprisingly, the answer came in the form of the problem.

Yumi had made a point to never _ever_ go anywhere near anything or anyone that reminded her of him. She kept him nameless in her thoughts because it would hurt otherwise and that would provoke connotations of caring and that was in direct opposition to her plan.

See, logic always saved her. It was the only thing she could hold on to.

It was unbelievably cold and Yumi was starving, for the lack of a better word. She stupidly left her apartment to go run errands and the bus had been almost a half an hour late, and then she was late to catch her second bus, which delayed her another hour. It was three in the afternoon and she hadn't eaten a single thing, and the only feasible place to eat in walking distance was that damned bakery.

It was just like Fate to fuck her over like this.

--

"Oh," Aelita chewed on her lower lip. "I always did think of Yumi as more of an Austen girl."

"That's funny," Jeremie's tone was humorless. "I always thought of her as an Ophelia girl."

Aelita was taken aback, "I don't see how."

"Ophelia, if you remember correctly, completely self destructed after Hamlet refused her."

"Yes," Aelita smarted, annoyed. "Is this an English class? I remember my classics well, thank you very much. Besides Yumi isn't subservient like Shakespeare's girls. She's strong willed and incredibly stubborn. She doesn't let other people shape her life."

Jeremie had perfected the art of ignoring her outbursts. He had a tremendous urge to correct her about Yumi not letting other people shape her life, but dismissed the want as petty. When she was done, he continued.

"While Yumi didn't commit suicide, she did the next best thing."

"Which was?"

"She tried to kill Ulrich."

--

From the moment Yumi entered the bakery and heard the bells chiming her arrival, she knew she had made a mistake. The next staple of this assertion was the face of the receptionist.

She tried to turn around and die of starvation without protest, but the receptionist wasn't having it.

"Oh _come on_," she ushered Yumi to a table. "I haven't seen you in like forever and a day and you suddenly want to leave. What have I ever done to you, huh? Huh???"

This was when Yumi became absolutely sure that this girl was completely crazy.

"I just realized I have a class I'm late to..."

"Bullshit, now what would you like to order?"

"Can't you get fired for being rude?"

"Probably," the receptionist grinned. "The probability of that would be loads and heaps higher if I wasn't the owner."

Yumi died a little inside. "...what?"

"Well you would have known if you would have asked like a normal, friendly person, but you're always in a rush. I can't blame you, though. It must be hard work juggling all those boyfriends of yours..." She trailed off suggestively. The girl was obviously a gossip whore.

Yumi ignored her. "Can I get --"

"The usual?"

"No, no," Yumi shook her head. "I want... something different."

"Why?" the girl asked, obviously surprised.

Yumi wanted to say; _because I'm different now_, but kept her lips suture shut because she knew it to be a lie.

--

"It's called a metaphor."

Aelita punched Jeremie in the arm, frowning. "No, it's called you being an asshole."

Jeremie sighed, "I don't see why I even bother..."

"Because," Aelita drawled. "How could you ever resist _this_ face?" She pouted outrageously.

"Easily."

Aelita rolled her eyes. "I'm dying to know how it ends. You know I haven't heard word from Ulrich or Odd. I feel like I'm blindfolded and being the first and foremost to try to get Yumi and Ulrich together, I should have first dibs on any and all news. This is an obvious injustice."

"The only injustice here is how much you talk. Are you going to let me finish or not?"

Aelita was positively sullen. She hated being snubbed.

"Yes, but before you go on, I want to know... Does this story have a happy ending or not?"

Jeremie gave her question serious consideration. Then he smiled, and this was his real smile. Aelita knew it because she had known it before there was ever a fake smile.

"I'd like to think that there wasn't an ending at all."

--

Since it was obvious that the girl wasn't going anywhere, Yumi resigned herself.

"So, what's your name?"

"Oh," the girl looked thoughtful. "I could have sworn I told you..."

"No," Yumi communicated. Mainly because she was trying to run away from her at any and every given chance, though Yumi failed to mention this.

"Oh," the girl laughed. "LeDuc. My name is Emilie LeDuc."

--

"What was Ulrich doing during all this time?"

Jeremie frowned, "Drinking himself into oblivion."

"I'm going to kill him!" Aelita exclaimed self righteously. "He promised he'd never drink after Kadic."

"I never said he was drinking alcohol, though the poor man did try..."

"What?" Aelita was confused.

"Odd emptied out all his liquor bottles and filled them up with soda. I took care of the rest."

"You _didn't_." Aelita stared at Jeremie, suitably amused and reminded of why she couldn't part from him. "You did!"

"If the question you are asking is if I paid off every single bar in New York City and the local liquor venders, then the answer is yes. Not that it mattered. That was just the backup plan."

"What was the first plan?"

Jeremie smiled, but this was his planning smile. It was the kind that made you glad to be on his side. "The original plan was that Ulrich was, under no circumstances, to leave his apartment until his flight to Germany."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I didn't. Two body guards did an admirable job, however."

"Oh poor Ulrich," Aelita laughed. "He probably hates you."

Jeremie shrugged his shoulders. "Tell me something I don't know."

--

"So what happened to your boyfriend, you know, the nice one?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because," Yumi paused. "Because, I want to forget him."

"But why?" Emilie had a look of consternation on her face. "You guys looked so happy together."

This statement nearly drove Yumi to pieces. She recollected herself.

"We were," Yumi admitted to Emilie, and herself. "I just ..."

"Yes?"

"I just..."

"_Yes_?"

"I didn't want to compromise who I was."

"And who are you?"

Yumi was momentarily shocked by the question, more so by her answer.

"I... _I don't know_."

--

"Ulrich goes to Germany tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes, he has a meeting with the board of directors the next morning."

Aelita was thoroughly preoccupied. "But won't he be suffering from jet lag?"

"At this point, I don't think he can suffer from much else. He's trying to move on with his life as quickly as possible."

"In other words, he's doing the same thing Yumi is."

Jeremie nodded.

Aelita smiled brightly, "They _are_ perfect for each other."

"No," Jeremie replied, almost as an afterthought. "They are imperfect for each other."

--

"That sounds like a pretty dumb reason not to accept."

Yumi marveled at how things could be simplified by an unbiased conclusion.

"Yeah, well I had other reasons."

"Oh really," Emilie inquired. "Such as?"

"I go to school here, my entire life is here."

"Sounds to me like your entire life is going to be in Germany."

Yumi sighed, frustrated. "What are you talking about? How do you know?"

"It's pretty obvious that you're in love with him," Emilie folded napkins to keep her hands busy.

Yumi narrowed her eyes. She had avoided that thought for nearly a week now. All that hard work in vain.

"Define obvious."

Emilie sighed, as if it was so very matter of fact that it was a burden to explain.

"Why else would you have bothered? I mean, according to what you've told me, you've gone through a whole lot of trouble to escape him."

Yumi wasn't sure of anything anymore. Her defenses were winding down, exhausted. "Why do you think that is?"

Emilie shrugged. "Beats me. I'm guessing it's because you actually want to go."

Yumi didn't like this strain of logic. She had to pursue it, she had to know.

"Why?"

"I mean, it seems like you can't explain why you _don't_ want to go but it's pretty clear why you _do_ want to go. Not sure about you, but that has to count for something."

--

"How is it that you know all of this, anyway?"

Jeremie assumed his thoughtful stance again.

"Well," he tried to remember why he had done what he did, but it wasn't coming to him. Perhaps that was because he usually got rid of useless information after it had served its purpose. "I still had a few hours before I came here, as you know. With nothing particularly to do, I went to do what you couldn't do - meddle."

"How charming," Aelita said dryly. The thinly veiled insult amused her and not in a good way. "So you went to see Yumi."

"How clever you are," Jeremie smiled. "Can you guess what I did next?"

"Well, you are acting in my stead, right?"

Jeremie nodded.

"What would I do..." Aelita thought out loud. "Oh! Jeremie," her eyes were shinning, undiluted by propriety. "Tell me that you did what I think you did."

"I had a very interesting run in with an old friend before I could visit Yumi."

"Who?"

"You don't know her," at the mention of this friend being a 'her', Aelita narrowed her eyes. This flattered Jeremie infinitesimally. "Her name is Taelia and she is a pilot."

--

Yumi was disturbed by what had transpired in the bakery and without eating much of anything, much to Emilie's reprise, she left. It was freezing outside, but that could have been blamed on that her hands had turned quite cold at the realization that she had no idea what she was doing except leading herself into a great failure.

and that she had lost everything. Yumi had thought that she really couldn't have had more of a downfall, but here it was. She walked back to her apartment, frustrated and lost. She wasn't sure what to think or how to deal. Her plan was falling apart before her eyes, or maybe that was just her.

One thing that Yumi rapidly realized when she reached her apartment was that she could see the light was on. This was a bit unnerving, because she always turned off the lights before she left. It was part of her frugal ideology. She readied herself for an intruder as she twisted the knob experimentally. It was unlocked. Tense, Yumi opened the door, wincing at the creak it made as it swung open.

Inside, sitting on her couch as if he had belonged there and she was visiting, was Jeremie.

--

"You broke into her house!" Aelita was scandalized but couldn't help but laugh.

"I did not break into her house," Jeremie defended himself candidly. "I paid someone to break in for me. There is quite a difference."

"You and your silly money," Aelita chastised. "Such a waste."

Jeremie raised an eyebrow. "I am going to ignore what a hypocrite you are being when you throw your money left and right on materialistic, useless things."

"Ha," Aelita countered. "I didn't see you complaining about me buying 'materialistc, useless things' when I wore that Valentino last year."

"Agreed," there it was, that semblance of a smile. "Though I must say my favorite part about that particular Valentino was when you took it off."

--

Yumi's first thought was that Emilie had drugged her and she was obviously hallucinating. She kicked off her shoes and slowly walked around her living room and into the kitchen. The coldness of the floor jolted her into accepting that Jeremie was actually, in her living room. Yumi trained her eyes on Jeremie, and gradually made her way back into the living room, sitting next to him.

This was incredibly weird. She had never been so close to Jeremie before. It made her uncomfortable.

"Hello Yumi," he said. His voice was remarkably peaceful. It was so unlike the calculating, biting tone he usually used.

"Why don't we skip the niceties and you can tell me why, and more importantly, how, you're here?"

"Why don't you relax?" Jeremie suggested.

"Why don't you leave?"

He sighed sardonically. "Alright, since you insist on being so rude..."

Yumi waited. He procured a slim, rectangular piece of paper.

"What is that?"

"This," Jeremie explained. "Is your salvation."

--

"Was it an airline ticket?"

"No," Jeremie chastised. "Stop trying to figure out what I'm going to say before I say it."

"Sorry!" Aelita look suitably humbled. Jeremie knew it wouldn't last for long. "So what did you give her?"

"What she needed most," Jeremie replied. "A friend."

--

"What is this?"

"It's a number," Jeremie explained.

Yumi rolled her eyes in irritation, "I know _that_. Whose number is this?"

"Mine."

"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

"Well," Jeremie paused, mockingly. "Generally, most people take a phone and use their fingers to push buttons that match the numbers and then -"

"Stop being so condescending."

"Stop being so stupid."

"Look," Yumi snapped. "I'm not in the mood to put up with your games."

"Neither am I," Jeremie said, coolly. "And neither is Ulrich."

That name ... Yumi found she couldn't breathe, like the universe had tipped over and robbed her of breath and speech and life and she couldn't ... couldn't ...

"Jeremie," she said at last, when her vision steadied and her heart didn't feel quite so sharp.

"Yes?" He almost sounded worried, but Yumi was too keen on trying to taper down her feelings of guilt and despair to pay attention.

"I think," Yumi swallowed air as if she was asphyxiating. "I'm dying."

--

"What did she do?" Aelita breathed.

Jeremie remembered this answer particularly well, as if he had been prepared for the question all along but it did not kill the melancholy beneath each syllable.

"She cried," he answered. "She cried for a very long time."

--

and Yumi found herself no longer strong, but a small child, breaking and broken and desperately reaching for something to keep her afloat. And in that moment, she knew, without any doubt, that she loved Ulrich as much as she loved life. There was no separation, no infinitesimal difference in degree of importance and she could not live without him.

She no longer had any pride, she only knew suffering and pain and immolation.

"Help me," and she was blindly begging.

Jeremie tried very hard to keep his nonchalance but it was too much like something - someone he had seen before, and he turned away.

--

"And then?"

Jeremie turned off the lights.

"And now," he said didactically. "Now we go to sleep."

"Jeremie, come mmhmp!"

Flushed, and completely outwitted, Aelita settled back into bed. She curved instinctively against Jeremie.

"Jeremie," she whispered.

"Yes?" He sounded aggravated, but she didn't care.

"I want her to win."

Silence, and then

"Me too."

--

"I'm going to help you," Jeremie said and he did not look at her. Yumi was glad because she had never cried in front of anyone but Ulrich.

"Thank you," she felt embarrassed but something else was building up inside of her.

"Don't thank me yet," Jeremie moved around some statistics in his head and calculated some figures. "If you want this to work, you're going to do exactly as I say."

Yumi closed her eyes.

"Okay."

--

Aelita was chatting Ulrich up the following morning, helping to keep him awake. She had him on speaker, and was showering him with endearments in hopes of cheering him up. It wasn't working. He was obviously in no mood for talking or people.

She had "accidentally" told Ulrich everything Jeremie had relayed to her the night before. Because of this, Ulrich had hoped that Yumi would be waiting at the airport, having changed her mind. His hopes were dashed and now he hated the world indiscriminately.

"I'm sorry darling," Aelita enthused and glared at Jeremie who passed her on the way to get his shoes.

"Your fault," he mouthed.

"Alright Aelita," Ulrich intoned. "I'm going to the hotel now. Send my regards to Jeremie."

"Your homicidal regards?" Aelita supplied.

"Yes," Ulrich replied darkly.

"Will do."

"Bye, Aelita."

"Goodbye, darling."

Aelita whirled around. "This is all your fault!"

"What?" Jeremie asked, innocently. "I couldn't force her to get on the plane."

"The hell you _couldn't_. Jeremie Belpois I am _very_ disappointed."

"I'll never recover," Jeremie's tone was solemn. "Now get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast."

--

If there was one thing Ulrich knew was that he would never love another woman again because they were too much trouble to begin with. It didn't seem worth it in the end, and he was so tired. The valet took his suitcases as he gathered up his keys from the lobby.

His father had the right idea. Love was inconvenient. Now that he was going to take over the company, he needed to stop yielding to feeling and start thinking in terms of business. He viewed the prospect as disheartening but he had tried it the other way and it had failed him.

he loved her so much and she didn't care, wouldn't change. He would have given up anything for her.

Ulrich angrily pushed those thoughts away and motioned towards the elevator to the valet who was carrying his luggage. What he needed was to forget about Yumi, and forget about the world. Everything he had fought for had backfired in his face. Ulrich bet his father was laughing at his misfortune, if the man was capable of laughter.

He had hoped, wildly, that she would have made it to the airport, that she would have had a change of heart. But no. Yumi wouldn't change for him. Ulrich wanted nothing more than to hate her but he knew that would be futile.

He just had to move on with his life. Never love another thing again. Take up knitting. Something.

The valet wished him a pleasant stay and Ulrich didn't bother to return the nicety. He felt wretched, alone, betrayed. He opened the door without much trouble and pushed his suitcase in with an apathetic kick. The suite was extravagant and he hated it.

He ambled around. He ate some food pre-stocked in the refrigerator. Turned on the television, flipping through channels, turning it off. He threw his shoes across the living room. He went outside, into the balcony, and saw Germany spread out before him like a feast. He turned around dispassionately, and entered his bedroom.

And on his bed sat the one thing he swore he would never love again. She had her legs drawn up to her knees and a curtain of black hair obscured her gossamer face.

Ulrich felt the world fall away.

--

Jeremie smiled into his phone.

"Very well, thank you Taelia."

Now he knew she was going to win the war.

--

The room was silent. She was sleeping soundly. Ulrich reminded himself to start breathing again, not quite believing what he was seeing. He was afraid to walk any further because if it turned out that she wasn't real and he was imagining this, the realization might actually kill him.

He took small, unsteady steps towards the bed and his shadow fell on her, making her look smaller than she was. She was perfect. Ulrich fell to his knees beside her, and watched her. Her face was so perfectly lax, so peaceful, that it chased away at the last of the resentment and pain that had been eating away at him since she refused his offer. He wanted to touch her but he was still afraid that this was an illusion.

Yumi solved the problem for him. Her long, charcoal eyelashes brushed upwards slowly as she unwound. Ulrich could tell she had been crying. He wasn't sure how she got here or when but it didn't matter. He really did not give a flying fuck about anything except that Yumi was less than a foot away from him.

"Hello stranger," she said lethargically. She then smiled. It was a beautiful smile but Ulrich was not above destroying it. He kissed her so suddenly that she gasped in surprise. Ulrich trapped her body beneath his, and it was so unlike him, but he didn't care. He wanted to keep her there for as long as he could.

Yumi broke away, and Ulrich realized she had been trying to say something.

She loved him. She wouldn't have fought her demons and come all this way if she didn't. She wouldn't have been capable of freeing herself from the stigmas she had about love otherwise. She wouldn't have taken such a big gamble, or left herself open to everything he could do. He knew that she did. But she told him anyway.

And they lived happily ever, or at least until approximately two hours later which was when Aelita burst through the door calling dibs on naming their first born. Yumi laughed nervously and knew, with some preoccupation, that Aelita was being dead serious. Ulrich covered her hand with his inconspicuously, and Yumi decided that although she would probably see her first born for ten seconds before Aelita kidnapped him to raise in a cottage somewhere, that was okay. There were worse places to be in.

--

picture you're the queen of everything

as far as the i can see

under your command

i will be your guardian

when all is crumbling

steady your hand

--

wow. i finished. i actually finished. i'm in shock. and awe. or maybe both. i really don't know what to say. i want to sound clever and stuff but the art currently eludes me. thank you. thank you everyone who supported me through criticism and praise throughout this story. thank you to everyone who thought it was great, to everyone who could relate, to everyone that it helped, and to all that it amused. thank you for sticking with it for so long and for putting up with me. thank you. i hope you enjoyed the ride as much as i did. and hopefully, we will meet again very soon.


End file.
